Journey of a Half-Breed
by xKurimuzon
Summary: Aeldre, Half-Elven, lost her Elven mother by Orcs and her father, who is a man, had gone missing. She lived in Rivendell with Lord Elrond as her father figure. Upon an unexpected encounter with The Company of Thorin Oakenshield, Aeldre felt she must join their journey to the Mountains for her own reason; finding her father. Will Thorin allow it?
1. Chapter 1: The Half Elf

"Just breathe Aeldre... Breathing is the key..."

Deep within the wilderness of trees, there was a woman, by the name of Aeldre, crouched on top of a thick tree branch. Her left hand was holding firmly onto the grip of the bow, and her right hand was drawing the string back, while holding the nock of the arrow. She kept the string close to her right cheek where she could feel the fibers of it against her skin, and have her eyes steady on her targeted mark in sight. Breathing, and breathing, she kept her nerves calm and her heart a steady speed to keep her mind focus. However, she could tell that the slight shiver of her hand on the bow wasn't giving her a perfect aim she desired.

"Steady..." She murmured to herself as she tried her best to keep the arrow straight. To her irritation, it flew astray after her fingers set it free, just as she had expected. Her heart dropped in her chest as it whistled past the target. She let her bow fall to her lap, letting out a huff of frustration at her own ability. It's another embarrassing failure.

She knew that her bowmanship was far from being perfect. Aeldre had always handled swords more comfortably than bows, considering her training in swordplay as a child. Of course she was very willingly to learn, but to her annoyance, she couldn't expect to be the best of Elvedom's archers quite yet. As much as that annoyed her, Aeldre was never the type to complain or be impatient.

Aeldre slipped her head through the gap between the string and the bow, leaving it secure across her chest. She hefted the quiver full of arrows beside her, and slung it over her left shoulder to let it lay on. She then grabbed hold onto an overhead branch as she stepped off, and hung underneath for a moment, before she thrust her body to swing for the next branch down and worked her way down till she could feel the forest floor touching her feet. From there, Aeldre traveled her way back to her Elven home, Rivendell.

Aeldre was different from most of the elves in Rivendell. She was born to have the blood of both elves and men. She had all the feature of Men, so that she could easily disguise herself as one without being noticed as an elf, except her slightly pointed ears, always hiding underneath her dark hair.

Aeldre walked down the stone bridge that leads to the entrance of Rivendell, and followed up the stairs soon after. She strolled along the trails of the Elven home in search of Elrond, but she couldn't find the elf anywhere. Aeldre needed to report back to Lord Elrond about her progress with the bow, unfortunately, his presence here in Rivendell wasn't present.

She gave up in fair time, reasoning that he could be outside of Rivendell for another scouting mission, and made her way to a nearby gazebo to rest.

Once she stepped into it, Aeldre set her bow and quiver onto the center table, and collapsed down to a seat as she let out a deep sigh. She needed to take a break from all the training she had gone through, even though her tries were ended up as failures.

The half-breed crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back to make herself comfortable, and closed her eyes. She felt herself drifting off to sleep as her head slowly dropped forward until her chin was touching her chest.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves on stone filtered into earshot, growing increasingly louder and louder, waking Aeldre from her slumber. She was familiar with the sound of horses approaching Rivendell, and so she followed the sound towards the gate of Rivendell, not bothering to take her bow.

As Aeldre approached the source of the noise, she stopped beside a tree a bit away, peering down at the people below. She was right about Lord Elrond being back from scouting; however, there was also the unexpected company of what looked to be a troop of Dwarves and…a Hobbit? They were surrounded by the elves on their horses, and surprisingly the wizard Aeldre recognized as Gandalf the Grey. _Who are they?_ she thought with a frown, _What is their purpose here in Rivendell?_ Despite these questions in her mind, Aeldre watched silently as Lord Elrond escorted this unusual company towards the dining hall. Supressing a groan of annoyance, she surrendered to her own mind's whims, slipping down the path after them. She only hoped that the old adage "curiosity killed the cat" wouldn't prove true for her.


	2. Chapter 2: Fili

As Aeldre got closer to the Dining hall, the sound of soft Elven music from the strings of harps and lutes, and the whistles of flutes became clear to her ears. The half-breed hid behind a wall to keep herself from out of sight, but as she heard Lord Elrond approaching from behind her she quickly made her way up the stairs to the balcony. Safely in position, Aeldre peered down to watch Elrond walking towards the dining hall in his best robes with Gandalf and Lindir. As they entered, she shifted her attention to the Dwarves, who didn't seem to be amused by Elvish cuisine presented to them.

"Just a mouthful," said a Dwarf at the far left, holding a glass of wine.

"I don't like green food," replied a younger Dwarf in disgust.

"Where's the meat?!" implored a muscular Dwarf, looking quite frustrated.

Aeldre rolled her eyes, lifting her hood to hide her face and sat quietly. So far not much with the dwarves has happened that seemed interesting to the half-breed, until she overheard Elrond's conversation with Gandalf and one of the Dwarves with a black mane of hair.

"This is Orcrist," Elrond explained, running a critical eye down the length of the blade that the dwarf had begrudgingly handed over. "The Goblin-cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin," Lord Elrond said, giving the Dwarf his sword back. "May it serve you well." Next, he takes Gandalf's sword and examines the weapon. "And this is Glamdring. The Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the Goblin wars of the First Age." Elrond passed the sword back and asked, "How did you come by these?"

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East road," Gandalf replied, "shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."

"And what were you doing on the Great East road?" Elrond asked , his curiosity clearly drawn.

Gandalf abruptly became quiet, hesitating to answer, until the Dwarf with black hair spoke. "Excuse me," he said in a tense tone as he got up from his chair and walked away from the table, leaving his plate still filled with food.

Aeldre watched him for a moment, before Elrond drew her attention again. _Orcs, huh?_ she thought, thinking back about what Gandalf mentioned, before coming here to Rivendell. She had a history with Orcs, so the word that the wizard uttered out disgusted her.

"Thirteen Dwarves and a Halfling." He sighed, "Strange traveling companions, Gandalf." Elrond took a sip of his wine from the tall, clear glass in his hand.

"This is the descendants of the House of Durin!" Gandalf exclaimed beginning to sound exasperated, "The noble, decent folks, who are surprisingly cultured and have deep love of the arts."

Aeldre's attention was drawn away from Gandalf and Elrond as a dwarf with unusually styled hair turned over his shoulder to the harpist playing softly behind him. "Change the tune why don't you?!" he said, turning back around to smirk at his companions. "I feel like I'm in a funeral!"

The next Dwarf, a bit more gray haired than the others, twisted the hearing trumpet in his ear, looking about frantically. "Did somebody died?!"

"Alright lads, there's only one way for it!" Another Dwarf wearing a hat, suddenly leapt onto the table and trampled over the plates to a tree stump in the middle. Aeldre was confused for a moment, but quickly found her confusion turned to exasperation as he began to sing out an odd Dwarvish song.

There is an inn, a merry old inn,

Beneath an old grey hill,

And there they brew a beer so brown,

That the Man in the Moon himself came down

One night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat

That plays a five-stringed fiddle;

And up and down he runs his bow,

Now squeaking high, now purring low,

Now sawing in the middle.

The dwarves around him began to throw their vegetables and dumplings everywhere, some directly towards the singing Dwarf. To Aldre's suppressed amusement, one decided to throw their salad at a statue, narrowly missing Lindir. As the song ended, they cheered loudly and roared in laughter.

 _Noble folks?_ Aeldre thought with a roll of her eyes. _Right._ She found it hard to believe that such irritating Dwarves such as these would ever be called noble.

"Excuse me," Aeldre was startled by the sudden voice from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see one of the dwarves from the table, one of the younger ones with a full head of blonde hair, "Might I ask what's a pretty lass such as yourself doing watching us from up here?"

Aeldre pulled her gaze away from the Dwarf's bright blue eyes and adjusted her hood to better hide her face. "I am not watching them, Master Dwarf. I am simply observing. It is unusual to have such…odd company here."

The blonde Dwarf chuckled. "Isn't observing the same as watching?"

Aeldre didn't reply.

"Not the party type, then?" he prompted further, stepping out into the balcony beside her.

Aeldre leaned her head against the wall refusing to meet the intruder's gaze as she watches the Dwarves now enjoying their meal properly. "I am not over fond of crowds, especially with a crowd as…boisterous as this." The half-breed took a short glance up at the dwarf, "And you? Are you not going to join your friends?"

"In a moment," he glances with a slight smirk down at her. "You look rather suspicious in that getup, you know. It looks as if you are ready to assassinate one of us at any given moment."

Aeldre gave a roll of her eyes, scoffing slightly. "If you do not like it, then you might as well leave me be. I am not going to be changing my clothing simply because some Dwarf commented about my sense of fashion." Aeldre removed her glance from him.

"I meant no insult by it, My Lady," he hastily corrected himself, "I think a maiden with a bit of a mystery to her is much more interesting than most you'd find out there in Middle Earth. It's not every day I came across such a woman quite so fascinating as yourself."

Aeldre felt A blush start on her cheeks. Despite her annoyance, it seemed that this dwarf's flirting was somehow getting to her.

"If you don't mind me asking, My Lady, What is your name—"

Aeldre shook any embarrassment away, quickly standing up, "—that is none of your concern, Dwarf." With that, she took off, brushing past the Dwarf without a glance in his direction.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, stopping Aeldre. "My name is Fili. I do hope to see you again soon, My Lady."

Aeldre struggled not to snark something back at Fili, but kept her lips sealed and continued walking till she was far away from the Dwarf. She knew it was likely that she would encounter at least one of the Dwarves, or possibly the Hobbit, but she never thought they would sneak up on her like that, or that they would seem quite so insistent on wooing her. Usually Elves and Dwarves clashed in personality and ideals in many ways. They're conflicting past, of course, didn't help. Needless to say, her meeting with Fili made her feel a bit twitchy. She at least hoped she wouldn't have to bump into him again any time soon).


	3. Chapter 3: Erebor

Later that day, Aeldre took the time to go out into the woods to relieve her mind from the stress placed on her by those dwarves, particularly Fili. Her moment with the young Dwarf had left her feeling… uneasy to be accompanied by anyone, elf, Dwarf, or otherwise. Spending time alone in nature alone would ease her mind, and hopefully make the time until the dwarves' departure pass much more quickly.

Night soon fell upon the forest, and all of the Elves in Rivendell were likely preparing themselves for a good night's rest, and Aeldre was about ready to do the same. She returned from her short journey through the woods, her goal being to head straight towards her sleeping chamber. But, finding herself still feeling restless, Aeldre decided to take a walk around Rivendell before turning in for the night.

The familiar calming presence lured Aeldre through the paths of her home. Her boots softly tapped against the stone floors beneath her soles, as the distant echo of waterfalls filled in the back noises. It created a relaxing tune to the half-breed's ears. As she walked further past the gates, the moon, already growing high in the sky a luminous wash of moonlight across Rivendell. Aeldre found herself pausing, gazing up at the beautiful full moon hung against the star strewn sky as the moonlight covered her in its light. She felt the cool air kissing her cheeks softly, as the wind ruffled through her dark brown hair. The sacredly silent aura made Aeldre feel almost as if she were in some sort of heaven—a heaven that filled her troubled hear with the utmost pleasant peace and calm.

An untellable amount of time had passed, when she found herself in the library. She stepped across the threshold, and had only wandered a few paces in when she overheard voices from inside. Curiosity filled her once more, unfortunately, and so, with a sigh, she quietly snuck further in. As she crept closer, she found Elrond with Gandalf, two of the Dwarves ( the black-haired one with the Goblin-Cleaver and a shorter Dwarf with long white beard ), and the Hobbit. They stood over in a pool of moonlight that poured in through the high, clear windows of the library, closely huddled a bit, as if to not be overheard. A silent smirk touched at Aeldre's lips. That last plan didn't work out so well. To hear the conversation properly, she took a stealthy step closer, and hid behind the bookshelves.

"Our business is no concern of Elves," spat the dark-haired Dwarf.

"For goodness sake. Thorin, show him the map!" replied Gandalf, visibly frustrated with the Dwarf's attitude.

 _Map?_ Aeldre wondered. She was gradually becoming more curious as the conversation progressed.

The same irritated Dwarf seemed insistent on keeping his pride and added, "It is the legacy of my people. It's mine to protect! As are its secrets."

Gandalf scoffed, "Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!"

The Hobbit seemed as if he felt awkward as he watched the tense argument ensue.

The Dwarf looked around, almost as if searching for an escape, thoughts spinning behind his gaze, before he finally gave in, and took out the map to give to Lord Elrond.

However, the short Dwarf beside him seemed quite alarmed by this surrender. "Thorin, no!"

Thorin ignored his friend, and handed the map over to Elrond, who took it carefully.

Elrond rolled open the map and took a glimpse of it, quickly realizing what it depicted. "Erebor!" he said.

The familiar name struck Aeldre. She had read about Erebor and its riches years before. She also recalled from her reading, the more tragic past of it, involving a terrible fire-breathing dragon.

Elrond looked up from the paper, staring down at Thorin with a critical eye. "What is your interest in this map?"

Thorin tempted to reply to him, but Gandalf spoke over him. "It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifacts sometimes contains hidden text." Aeldre narrowed her eyes [a bit]. Was it just her, or did Gandalf sound a bit too nervous saying that?

With a slight chuckle, the elderly wizard continued, "You still read ancient dwarvish, do you not?"

Elrond took the time to inspect the map, before he lifted it up to the moonlight. " _'Cirth ithil'_ " he replied, reading through the paper.

Gandalf's face brightened as if a lantern had lit above his head. "Moon runes. Of course. An easy thing to miss."

"Well in this case, that is true. Moon runes can only be read by the light of the moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written." Elrond explained.

Thorin asked eagerly, "Can you read them?"

With a gracious nod, Elrond signaled them to move on to another area. Thorin, his Dwarf companion, the Hobbit, and Gandalf followed the Elf. Once they were out of sight, Aeldre slipped out from behind the shelves and quietly watched out the door they'd left. She was almost tempted to follow them to learn more about the Dwarves' intentions with the Lonely Mountain. However, Aeldre was hesitating to eavesdrop further into their conversation when it obviously has nothing to do with her. Still, there was a strong feeling developing in her heart. It gradually grew stronger as she thought back to what she had overheard until it became a realization that what she had learned so far, her yearning for adventure had gotten stronger, along with her desperation to do something with her life. Her heart set with questions, Aeldre waited a bit anxiously for Elrond to come back. Maybe he could help her find some answers.

Dwarves were, and always would be troublesome and somewhat dim-witted beings, yet she couldn't help but consider them lucky to have the opportunity to travel throughout Middle Earth. Aeldre had never liked to stay in one place for too long. And while she did love Rivendell years spent there was far too long. She could practically feel her skin crawling with the desire to get out into the world. She wanted to see new sights, and explore unknown regions, but her strongest was to find her father, who had been missing for far too long ( long enough for Aeldre to lose count of the years since his departure ). He was her only family left who was related to blood, and she was determined to reunite with him.

Later on, Elrond finally arrived back the library where Aeldre now sat, lost in the web of her thoughts. The moment she saw him, she sprung up to her feet, calling out, "Lord Elrond!"

The elf stopped as he heard his name, and turned his head over his shoulder to look at her.

"Aeldre, it is certainly a surprise to see you here." After a slight pause, he asked, "How long have you been waiting here?"

Aeldre hesitated to answer.

Elrond prompted further with another question a slight knowing smile coming upon his lips, "You were here when I was speaking with the others about the runes, weren't you?"

She stepped out of the shadows as she lowered down her hood and bowed her head apologetically, " _Goheno nin_." She said a bit sheepishly.

Aeldre straightened her head up, beginning before Elrond could cut in, " _Hîr vuin_ , those Dwarves. Why are they here in Rivendell? And what do they want with Erebor?"

Elrond sighed, "They wish to return to their mountain of Erebor, and to enter the stronghold using a door only shown by that map." A deep frown furrowed his brow, his tone growing solemn. "But, I am sure that entering that mountain can only bring more grief to them."

The Elf began to walk away as he continued to speak, "I would advise them against it, but I feel it would prove a wasted effort. The stubbornness of Dwarves is practically legendary."

Aeldre's thoughts were spinning. This was turning out to be quite the noble quest indeed. However, the Dwarves themselves certainly were an issue. Thus far, she had only found them repulsive, ill mannered, and rather lacking in the intelligence side of things. But it seemed that this odd, pungent company was her only option for escape. She grit her teeth, letting out a sigh of frustration. Was this really to be her punishment? What had she done to offend the Valar, that they would place this burden upon her? She shook her head, giving one last sigh before properly making up her mind.

At last she blurted out, jogging a few steps to catch up with Elrond again, "I think I should accompany them!"

Elrond abruptly stopped, turning around to give Aeldre a look of faintly masked astonishment. "What?"

Aeldre swallowed hard, the words pouring out of her mouth too quickly for her to control. "I've thought it over! I have! You know I can keep a level head, and you know I've trained for an opportunity just like this! If there's danger or corruption, I am not like the dwarves. My heart will not give in so easily to greed or anger. I can help them-

"-it is out of the question. The danger is far greater than what you imagine it to be, Aeldre."

Aeldre's eyes shot wide, a feeling of discomfort gripping her chest. No? He had said no? That wasn't how this was supposed to go. Aeldre grabbed the sleeve of Elrond's robe and begged, "My Lord, please. This may be the only chance I'll have to find him."

Sympathy glinted in Elrond's dark gaze. "I know, _henig_." He softly said, softly putting his hand on her shoulder, as if to comfort her growing panic. "But you know little of the world. You do not know of its dangers, its pitfalls. In the eyes of eternity, you are young."

"I've trained," Aldre argued. "You've trained me just for something like this for years."

Elrond sighed, his hand falling off of her shoulder to pinch wearily at the bridge of his nose. "Aeldre—"

"—Was it all for nothing!?" Aeldre spat, control of her temper quickly slipping from her grasp. "Have I trained in a hundred arts for a hundred months to rot away in this city because the world is too dangerous? I cannot—"

"Aeldre, you do not know of what you speak!" Elrond shot back, his temper heightening to match hers.

"I think I do! You are—"

"You know nothing of the world!" Elrond nearly shouted, his eyes, burning with a deep fire. "You are young, and you are foolish, and you are not ready to face a world as unforgiving as ours!"

Aeldre fell a step back, her rage fading to be replaced by a twinge of fear. She had never seen this anger directed at her.

Elrond glared at her for a moment longer before this fell, to be replaced by exhaustion. His tone was weary when he broke the silence. "We will not speak of this longer. When the time comes, you will be allowed into the world. Now is not this time."

"My Lord!" Aeldre cried, desperation in her tone.

"Goodnight, Aeldre." With that last, definitive phrase, Elrond turned away from her, sweeping from the room.

Aeldre felt dumbfounded as Elrond's sleeve slipped out of her fingers, "Elrond!" She said after him, almost begging, trying to catch his attention one more time, but he continued sweeping away out of her sight.

For so long, Aeldre had lived happily under Elrond's care, trained and learned, without protesting. But now, he was refusing her this? What is she suppose to do? Her father could be in danger, screaming for help wishing, waiting, praying for her to save him. Aeldre felt terribly helpless. If she wasn't allowed to be free for another day, she might very well go mad. What was she to do?

Her blood began to boil from the anger that was gradually increasing. Anger towards Elrond. What right did he have to keep her here? Was she his prisoner now? Or simply a dumb child, too stupid and incompetent to face the world? He understood her need for freedom. She had trusted him for so many years. Was it only now that he betrayed her? She gritted her teeth tightly to try holding back her rage. It was only a moment before she reeled back, smashing her fist into the side of a bookcase beside her. Her frustration only grew when she realized that the bloody thing hardly dented, though it left her fist ringing with sharp pain. A flood of curses escaped her lips, and she found herself landing blow after blow on the unforgiving surface. Eventually, exhaustion and pain got the better of her, and she stormed out of the lonely library and travelled toward her quarters. To her annoyance, her hands would need some bandaging. Half-way there, she overheard the voices of Dwarves disrupting the peaceful quiet of the night. Irritation welled up in her. Did they have no concept of etiquette? The moon was already rising. They should all have been well asleep! She half thought to tell them off as she followed this noise, marching further up the stairs. Hiding within the shadows, she took a small glance to watch the rambunctious Dwarves enjoying the night with a crackling fire the ground scattered with a veritable feast of meat and cheese and bread.

The anger in Aeldre's chest lost its sting as their laughter, and the sweet smell of wood smoke washed over her. She sank into the wall beside her with a sigh, working her sore knuckles, watching as they feasted and chatted. The Dwarf that sang during lunch was casually roasting sausage over the fire, until he heard a soft creak coming from the table that the rather fat Dwarf was perched on top of. The singing Dwarf took a glimpse down at his cooked sausage, before looking over at his friend with a smirk, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes.

"Bombur!" he called, tossing the meat over to the large dwarf.

Bombur skillfully caught the sausage with his right hand, his left having been occupied with a quickly disappearing platter of dumplings. Suddenly, the table gave a horrendous dying creak, before practically splintering to bits, finally surrendering to the superior weight of the dwarf. Bits of food, and former table went flying, sending the dwarves around it into peals of wild laughter.

Despite herself, Aeldre couldn't help but let out a chuckle, a dose of tension sliding off of her heart. She quickly muffled any sound with a hand over her mouth, but couldn't deny the smile writ across her face. How long had it been since she'd truly laughed? Maybe the company of these fools wouldn't be all bad.

Aeldre bowed her head back down, lifting up her hood and pulling herself away from the wall. Enough of their foolish distractions.

Her wanderings lead her to the gazebo from earlier, where her bow still lay on the center table, basking in the quiet darkness of the night. She sat herself down on the bench and blankly stared ahead for a short moment, before she gazed down at her hands, covered by a pair of brown leather gloves. She slipped them off to expose her bare hands covered in calluses and scars from her training, and the new scrapes and bruises formed by her earlier anger. Aeldre turned them over, away from the newer wounds, to recall the old. She hadn't trained all that time to simply stay in Rivendell forever. A rush of the warmth of camaraderie had filled her, just watching the dwarves, a feeling she had never had in Rivendell. It felt so good to experience it all again. Part of her longed to try and be a part of it. She did deeply loved Rivendell in all of its serene perfection, its ageless beauty, but she had always known that she would have to leave someday. But what would she leave behind? Her stability? Her friendship? Her family?

Aeldre casted her eyes upon the view of Rivendell more confusion than ever twisting her thoughts.

"Ugh!" she groaned out of frustration, throwing her hands up to rub at her eyes. "What am I supposed to do?!" All of the crowded thoughts filled up her mind, pulsating her head. "What am I to do…?

Aeldre lifted up her chin to stare at the twinkling stars above her head, as she whispered softly. " _Nana_ …" she called out to her mother, who now dwelled in the heavens. "I need your help, Nana… Elrond refused to let me go… I do not know why, but _Ada_ could be in danger! I have to save him, before it is too late! But that means I have to leave Rivendell, and everyone that I love… Lord Elrond. Elladan. Elrohir. Arwen—everyone! I do not know if I will ever return here alive, if I do leave…"

Aeldre buried her eyes into her palms and lowered her face to her lap. "I'm lost, Nana…" she choked, "I wish you were here with me… I just want your help. I want you to tell me what to do. I want you to make all of the pain and the confusion go away. _Nana_ , I miss you so much…" Aeldre was on the verge of tears as she struggled to find a resolution of her inner conflict.

 _"Lelling…"_

A warm feeling crept up her spine as the familiar voice filled the air around her. It was a voice from her past, a sweet memory.

 _"Aeldre, one day you will face the world alone and I will not be there to hold your hand. You will stumble upon harsh obstacles on your path. You will find yourself lost, and you will cry until you have run out of tears, and scream until your voice fades. But, my dear daughter, when, at last, you face the world alone, remember." the soft spoken woman laid her palm above her daughters sweetly beating heart. "Always listen to your heart. Let it guide you to the right for it only can speak the truth. If you allow yourself to listen to it, you will never go astray, my Aeldre."_

Her memory made her opened her eyes to the truth—the path that her heart told her to follow. The answer that she sought was in her heart, as it always had been. This is what she was looking for, and there was no turning back… Aeldre swept herself to her feet as she took the bow into her hand, at last a feeling of determination filling her.

She had listened to her heart, and it was telling her loud and true to accompany the Dwarves and find her father without delay.

Translations:

 _Goheno nin_ : "I'm sorry"

 _Hîr vuin_ : "My lord"

 _Henig_ : "My child"

 _Nana:_ "Mommy"

 _Ada:_ "Daddy"

 _Lelling: "_ My daughter"


	4. Chapter 4: Adventure begins

Aeldre marched briskly towards her sleeping quarters to prepare herself for her upcoming journey. However, just as she was reaching the hallway her door lead off of, she found herself halted by Elladan, one of Elrond's sons, leaning against the wall, sending her a questioning look. Her blood ran cold as she jolted to a stop, doing her best to sound as nonchalant as possible as she gritted out, "Elladan! I did not expect you to be awake."

He smiled at her, a bit too knowingly for her taste, "I was restless, I suppose. Of course, I find myself unsurprised to find you awake at such an hour as this."

Aeldre gave the most natural smile she could muster, trying not to fidget under his gaze. It was impossible that he could know of her plans, right?

Elladan, of course, noticed her discomfort, and tilting his head, asked, "Is something troubling you, My Sister?"

Aeldre smiled again, masking her nerves as best as she could. Elladan couldn't know of her plans to escape. Not until she was long gone. "No, I'm simply tired from wandering the forests outside of Rivendell." She shrugged. "I feel myself in need of a good night's rest. You should sleep as well, mellonin. We couldn't have the son of our Lord Elrond falling asleep at the breakfast table." Aeldre desperately hoped that had been enough to derail his suspicions, and sent him one last smile before nodding, saying "Losto mae," and breezing past him.

She finally reached to the doors to her chambers, but as she opened the door, she was startled a second time that night. "Lady Arwen," she breathed in recognition, trying to calm her buzzing pulse. The beautiful elven maiden was seated on Aeldre's bed, looking to be waiting patiently.

Arwen smiled warmly at Aeldre. "Hello, Aeldre. Does the night bring you no rest?" she asked.

Aeldre slowly crept into her sleeping chamber, "I suppose. And you, My Lady?"

Arwen smile turned a bit more weary, "I am afraid that rest pervades me tonight as well."

Aeldre tilted her head in curiosity, leaning against the doorframe "That's a shame. Does something bother you?"

Arwen's gaze shifted to the small window in the wall, looking out across the city, under the luminously calm and silent wrap of night. "I was wandering the halls of Rivendell… when I heard loud voices nearby. The voices did not belong to Dwarves, but I knew who those voices belong to. As I went to investigate, I found my father arguing with a certain half-elf."

Aeldre wilted. So Arwen had heard. She stayed silent, trying not to hang her head in shame as the elf continued.

"Watching two so dear to my heart shout at each other brought a great pain to me. I watched as my father left and the troubled girl lashed out around her, and cursed her anger out into the night. When she had exhausted herself, she wandered away with wounds untreated, and a heart still full of anguish." Arwen slipped a roll of white bandages out from her sleeve, patting the space next to her softly. "Come here, Aeldre."

With a sigh, Aeldre seated herself down next to Arwen, peeling away her gloves to reveal bloody, battered knuckles. She was unable to look the elf in the eyes as she softly asked, "Are you going to stop me as your father did?"

Arwen gently drew one of Aeldre's hands close to her, running an experienced eye over the broken skin."Aeldre, I will not lie, and say that it is my desire for you to leave us. As my father has said, the world is dangerous, and I do not think that you are truly ready to face it alone." She began gently winding the soft fabric around Aeldre's wounds. "But I know you enough to know that you will not be stopped by anyone saying 'no.' You wish for adventure, and no force of this earth will stop you from having it." After she finished one hand, she moved on to the next. "Your heart is not content to remain here, as are our immortal ones are. Although I do not understand it, I do understand that what you have chosen, you will carry out. I am little more than helpless to stop you."

Aeldre lifted her eyes to Arwen's youthful face, "Will Elrond not be upset if he found out you let me leave?"

Arwen smiled at her, setting her newly bandaged hands into her lap. "I assure you, he will be frustrated. But I will not be the only one taking this frustration." Her gaze flickered to the door, her smile growing only wider.

Aeldre turned back to the doorway, only to gasp, "Elladan. Elrohir." The twin sons of Elrond stood outside of the door, identical cheeky grins lighting their handsome faces. "I…" she struggled to speak after the rush of surprise filled her body. "You know as well?

"Aeldre," Elladan chuckled. "We know everything that happens here. I'd have thought you knew that by now."

Aeldre smiled at that, before turning serious again, asking, "You will support my journey as well, then?"

"We would not keep you from your dreams, even if we had the power to," Elrohir said, "My brother and I have seen what the world has to offer. We know that you too, need to see it for yourself."

"I cannot promise that you will not face danger, though," Elladan added.

Arwen spoke before the twins could continue, lifting a long sheathed sword from her side. "Take this with you," she said. "It is called Hadhafang, the Throng-Cleaver." Aeldre's eyes went wide as Arwen drew the weapon from its sheath. The blade of the sword was pure white that glistened in the faint moonlight brighter than any star Aeldre had yet to see. The light pooled along it's long curve, winding around the swirls and vines etched into the deadly piece of metal. Aeldre leaned a bit closer to read the inscription carved along one of these swirls… 'This blade is called Hadhafang, a noble defense against the enemy throng for a noble lady.' She recognized this blade. She had seen it hanging on the walls. But up close…it was even more lethally beautiful. "This is the blade wielded by my father's grandmother, my grandfather, my father, and myself. You will bear if for me on this journey.

Arwen resheathed the blade, before offering it out to Aeldre. Her eyes went wide as the true weight of this responsibility settled onto her shoulders. "Lady Arwen, I could not accept a gift of this-"

"-Then think of it not as a gift. I expect it to be returned to me in some time. You will keep it as a promise that you will return to me." She set in down into Aeldre's hands with a certain sense of finality.

Aeldre felt a sweep of emotions as she stared down at the blade, and tried to keep her voice from choking as she said, "My Lady, I cannot promise that."

Sadness and worry was thinly veiled in Arwen's eyes as she replied, "Lirimaer, I insist. You must promise that you will come back to me in good time, good health, and good happiness."

Heat throbbed in Aeldre's throat. "My Lady—"

"Quiet. Have peace, and know that in time, you will return to me."

Aeldre found herself out of words as she looked up at Arwen, something akin to fear tugging at her heart. "I…"

Arwen's fingers brushed away the tear that was beginning to slide down her cheek. "Just promise me, Aeldre. You will return."

Aeldre nodded as best she could, trying to hold back any more tears from falling. "I promise."

Arwen's smile was oddly what set Aeldre off, her throat choking with sobs, hot tears welling in her eyes. In a moment, Arwen had swept her into an embrace, murmuring, "Sílo Anor bo men lín."

A moment later, it seemed that Elladan and Elrohir had invited themselves in. Aeldre felt their weight settle onto the bed next to her, and one of them wrapped an arm over her shoulder, the other giving her hair a good ruffle. "Don't worry, Aeldre," the voice of Elladan said as she tried to stifle her sobs. "We'll all be back together soon enough."

"Exactly!" Elrohir said, his voice much more cheerful than Aeldre felt. "And then we can get right back to being the primary annoyances of your life!"

Despite her tears, Aeldre found herself smiling, muttering, "I can't wait."

* * *

The night passed in an utter rush of preparation. Aeldre didn't cry again, keeping herself busy enough to keep from thinking about what she was leaving behind. By the time she was ready for her journey, the sun was already on the rise.

She snuck through the city as silently as she could, but upon reaching the quarters of the dwarves, her heart dropped into her gut. It was empty. They were gone. She listened for them, but the air was silent. After checking around a bit more, she determined that the dwarves were quite definitively gone. However, they couldn't be far. That thought running through her head like a mantra, she hurried out of the city she used to call home.

As she reached the cliff pass that would block her view of the city, she turned back, watching the first rays of the day light upon the city. Aeldre wanted the whole view of Rivendell to remind herself, of the promise she made, of the tale she had to return to tell. She slowly turned her gaze away and continued onward till she no longer hear the familiar crash of water falling against stone.

She followed the obvious tracks of the dwarves into an underground tunnel and after a few minutes of silent walking, light pierced through the darkness above her. A window into the outside world. Steeling her heart against any trepidation, she set to climbing towards that chink of blue sky. When she at last broke through, she found herself taking in a gasp of clear, windy air. It filled her lungs, sending a new and fascinating fire rushing through her veins. Her eyes squinted against the new, bright light, the world yawning into existence around her. She had come up upon an open, sandy brown plain, scattered with outcropping boulders, rolling with tussocks hills and bluffs. Her pulse sped up. Was this freedom?

Aeldre hauled herself out of the tunnel, her boots connecting solidly with the rough soil underfoot. A buzz of adrenaline flooded through her as she greedily dragged in more and more of her new surroundings. This was more rugged than anything she'd seen in Rivendell. More new and thrilling than anything she'd encountered in a long time. A laugh bubbled up in her as any residual heaviness was swept from her heart by the brisk breeze. A sudden burst of energy sent her shedding her weighty pack, sprinting forward. The wind dragged at her, as her feet flew over the ground, drawing her hair into a long dark streak behind her, setting her legs afire with a delightful burn of exertion. She didn't even find her energy faltering as she tripped suddenly, tumbling onto the rough ground. In a moment she flopped over onto her back, letting out breathless laughs between long drags of the cool air. The sky was clearer than anything, blue as far as she could see. Perfect. She allowed herself to catch her breath on the ground, before reality caught back up to her with a vengeance. She sat up, smoothing the grass from her hair before sweeping to her feet.

Dragging the scraps of her sensibility back in, Aeldre sighed a calming breath before sweeping her eyes across the plain in search of her quarry. Soon enough, she found a line of small men moving up a hill north of the region. Intuition told her it could only be the company, and so she plucked her pack up off of the ground, and took off, ready to her chase her prey to the end.

* * *

Time flew as she pressed endlessly on, the landscape shifting around her. The rolling, stony hills became taller and sharper, growing into masses of jagged grey stone, cut into the harsh landscape. Sparse grass gave way to patches of crisp snow. Rabbit paths faded to gravelly trails. The weather too, did not remain so fair. She was tracking the dwarves' footsteps along an especially narrow track when the storm hit. Wind howled down the sharp ravine, the rain driven sideways by the force of it. The downpour drenched the stone underfoot, making a dangerous path possibly lethal. The furious sky above her head split with lighting, as white color flashed, the following thunder shaking the mountain as if it were frightened by the thunderous roar. Soon enough, she came to a fork in the path. The rain had well washed away any signs of the dwarf's path, so she was left guessing. After a few moments of trepidation, she shrugged off her nerves, picking the left-most trail. It took her onto a path cutting up the mountain, switching endlessly back, drawing her up and up the cliff face. She fought not to look down, lest she loose her already faltering balance.

After a few near-falls, she found a break in the cliff face, and without hesitation, squeezed herself into it. The dark space was, at the very least dry enough, though small and cramped. She followed the tunnel onwards, groping blindly through the dark. All of the sudden, a chill ran down her spine. Screeches of something akin to bats and the sound of scampering feet drifted through the air to her ears. Fear gripped her heart, and her hand went to the pommel of Hadhafang. However, she swallowed her nerves, something in her heart pushing her forward.

Another noise hit her then, that which she could only identify as belonging to the Dwarves. Immediately, without hesitation, she pressed on, her purpose confirmed.

Aeldre quietly tiptoed through the empty tunnels of the cave as she listened to the sound of high-pitch screeches getting louder and louder, a pinprick golden-orange light growing in the distance. Soon, she heard voices pouring from the light ahead. Cautiously, Aeldre slipped off the bow from her shoulder and drew a single arrow from the quiver behind her back. She slid her way along against the rock wall beside her, getting closer and closer. When the cavern opened up around her, she almost recoiled in horror. Below her, writhing throngs of strange, angry, creatures were swarming around the company, as the dwarves were fighting against their captors. Her eyes caught against the blonde dwarf that she had encountered back at Rivendell. He seemed to fight with a particular vigor, throwing the beasts off of him left and right. Fili, was it? He was a fierce fighter, it seemed, if not a hopeless flirt.

The Dwarves were being herded through a maze of precarious wooden bridges, strung together as if without any thought. Everywhere Aeldre looked, there were millions of the disgusting creatures, snarling and glaring at them with their deformed faces. It seemed these monsters had a leader though, in the form of a gruesome, massive blob of a thing, all flabby, dirty skin, dotted with a healthy helping of warts and pocks. As he watched the dwarves be goaded closer he nodded in approval, the massive blob of fat hanging from his chin wobbling with every movement. From above, standing by one of the entryways of this gruesome kingdom, Aeldre fought back a gag. This place was terrible.

The Goblin King spoke to his followers, in a booming, accusatory voice. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

An individual Goblin replied to his King, "Dwarves, your Malevolence."

"Dwarves?" the King replied, surprise lighting his massive, wrinkled face.

"We found them on the front porch." Replied another Goblin, sneering.

"Well don't just stand there, search them! Every crack, every crevice!" Following their Highness's command, the Goblins began to scavenge through the Dwarves and their pockets. "What are you doing in these parts? Speak!" he added. When no response came, the Great Goblin smirked. "Very well, if they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring up the mangler, bring up the bone breaker! Start with the youngest." The Goblin pointed his staff at the youngest Dwarf, cowering in the center of the crowd. A few goblins lurched forward to fulfill the order.

However, Thorin intervened. "Wait!" he shouted, stepping forward.

The Goblin King noticed the dark haired dwarf and chuckled, "Well, well, well! Look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain." Despite the honorific terms he was using, there was hardly any reverence in his voice as he swept into a low, wobbling bow. "Oh!" he said in mock surprise. "But I'm forgetting you don't have mountain, and you're not a king. Which makes you… nobody really." Aeldre winced. She could see the dwarves below becoming more and more enraged, and understood why. This mockery was a whole new level of low. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head," he added as if an afterthought. "Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak? An old enemy of yours. A pale orc astride a white warg."

Confusion lit Thorin's features over his obvious annoyance. "Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago."

The king raised a brow, "So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" He turned over his attention to a scribe goblin, seated in some sort of a basket contraption "Send word to the pale orc, tell him I have found his prize."

Aeldre set her teeth grimly. So, Thorin was the king. That would explain his will to return to Erebor…But who was this Azog they spoke of? The name sounded a bit familiar to her, but she struggled to recall any actual information. Would he be a danger to them?

Aeldre pushed these questions out of her mind, lifting into a crouch as she took in a slow, stabilizing breath, her fingers tightening on her bow. First things first, she needed to rescue her companions. The rest could come later.

Translation:

Mellonin: "My friend"

Losto mae: "Sleep well"

Lirimaer: "Lovely one"

Sílo Anor bo men lín: "May the sun shine on your road"


	5. Chapter 5: Rescue Mission

Aeldre waited until the Goblin King's attention was drawn away from her direction to sneak further across her wooden platform. When she found a quiet, shadowed corner, in clear view of the King and the Dwarves, she tucked herself into a stable kneeling position, drawing her bow back smoothly, arrow nocked. It was frustrating, being as inexperienced as she was with this. She was far from her target, and the heat and stench of the place had her vision wobbling and blurring. Aeldre swore silently to herself, wishing, not for the first time, that she was a bit more skilled at archery.

She could feel her heart beating in her throat in a steady thump… thump…. Hot sweat began to slide down the side of her face and her breathing became heavier, the haze in her mind only worsening. A loud rumble cut through the din of the goblins, and Aeldre jumped a bit, the grip on her arrow nearly slipping as she shifted to see the source of the noise.

Out came two strange contraptions being pushed by swarms of Goblins. They seemed to be made out of metal, but it had rusted to a dirty, bronze color. One side was set with four shackles, for wrists and ankles, while the other half of the device was a bed of jagged spikes. A set of wheels, pulleys and chains promised a terrible fate to whoever ended up trapped in this thing. Aeldre's heartbeat only sped up. There were two of these things being dragged out, and she was near positive that there would be two dwarves set in them as soon as the moment arose.

As the goblins worked, the King began to sing again, excitement tingeing his voice. "Bones will be _shattered_ , necks will be wrung, and you'll be beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung! You will die down here and never be _found_ … down in the deep of Goblin town!"

The king's followers continued to scavenge through the pockets and bags of the dwarves with a terrible, glinting greed until one of them came across a sword in its sheath. Aeldre watched with a wary sort of interest, as it gradually drew the blade out. As soon as the blade caught the firelight, it yelped out of fear, chucking the weapon down, as it started to shine an eerie blue color.

The goblins scattered in terror, including the king who trembled in fear, cowering into his throne, jabbing a sausage-finger at the blade. "I know that sword! It is the _Goblin-cleaver_! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!" He cried, "Slash them, beat them, peel them, kill them all!"

Aeldre shook her mind out of this horrific scene, drawing her bow into position as the goblins began to crowd around the Dwarves once more, focusing mostly on Thorin with their bony, clawed fingers. Her time was running terribly thin. Her hear was thudding at a furious pace, her vision blurring, her fingers shaking almost too hard for her to hold onto her arrow. _Come on, Aeldre,_ she urged herself. _You know how to do this. Just breathe in…_

"Intruder!" shrieked an accursed goblin.

Aeldre startled hard as a bony, slimy creature reared up, only feet from her on the platform. As she reeled, trying to regain her swaying balance, the arrow loosed from her fingertips. With an ever-growing feeling of dread, she turned just in time for the Goblin King to let out a particularly horrendous bellow. Her heart stopped to see the arrow, _her arrow_ , jutting out from the fat at the creature's right shoulder.

The goblin king yanked the arrow out furiously, snapping it in his large hand. "What murderous intent! Who dare try to assassinate the king?!" he roared, rolling about to find the source of his injury. In a moment that felt much longer than it actually was, his gaze locked dead onto Aeldre's. Valar help her. "You!" He pointed his staff up at Aeldre."Seize her! Kill her! Do not let her escape my kingdom!"

The fowl creature next to her leapt onto her shoulders by surprise as it clawed out for her skin. She yanked an arrow out of her quiver, and gouged it between its eyes, then yanked it out. She looked up and all of the sudden, saw a swarm of the goblins, screaming for her blood. There were also thousands more approaching from the lower levels gradually goes up towards Aeldre at the higher level, while more are approaching from both sides. She shook her head, trying to steady her frantic pulse as she stowed her bow away over her shoulder, drawing Hadhafang.

She was ready for the first wave of goblins, and managed to keep from flinching as she tore through them, five in just one smooth blow. Her movements were fluid and practiced, and she found herself smiling slightly, even as the hot, black blood of the creatures sprayed across her skin. This was living. This was her training truly coming to reality.

Her smile faltered a bit as she realized that, with the sheer number of these things, they were beginning to close in on her. She made up her mind quickly, working to carve a bloody path through the beasts. She was, all at once, terribly glad for her training. While the goblins weren't particularly intelligent, there were quite a few of them, and their movements were frantic and unpredictable. Years of drills, after drills had forged the details of battle into her mind, so she hardly had to think as she twisted and sliced her way through the rowdy crowd.

She hissed in fear as a goblin launched itself at her, managing to get a chokehold around her neck, and working around a jagged knife to her jugular. Hadhafang clattered out of her grasp as she grabbed up frantically for the thing's spindly arms, trying to wrench it off. It screamed horribly in her ear as she got a hold on its wrist, breaking it with a terrible crunching feeling. However, her cry soon joined the beast's as a ribbon of pain burned across her arm. Apparently, her twisting it its wrist had made it lash out more than ever, and its blade had left a long, tearing cut in the flesh of her forearm.

Bloody Valar. That hurt. More than any little training injury she'd ever felt.

She bit back against another cry of pain as she ripped the creature away from her neck, dropping it onto a small troupe of goblins that rushed after her. She leaned down, sweeping Hadhafang off of the ground from where she had locked it safely under her foot. She'd only just gotten done beheading the goblin that had landed a blow on her, when another pit of dread formed in her gut.

Through the writhing crowd of goblins, another taller one was lunging towards her, its large, studded club raised and ready. It snarled out a roar, and Aeldre narrowly missed being hit by its first swing. By the second one, though, she was ready, and ducked smoothly away from the weapon, slashing out hard across the creature's gut with Hadhafang. She had little time to revel in that victory, though as she felt a weight on her shoulders. She twisted with a groan—

Only for the goblin she'd just disemboweled to swing at her one last time, walloping her straight in the gut. Her breath flew from her lungs, and she would have cried out if she could. Aeldre hit the ground hard a few heartbeats later, the wood beneath her giving an ominous creak.

Before she was at all able to regain her wits, the weight of the whole platform shifted beneath her, and she was tumbling into the void, Hadhafang slipping out of her weak grasp.

She may have very well imagined it, but for some odd reason, as she spilled over the ledge, she could have sworn that Fili's eyes, alight with horror, had locked onto hers. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't perfectly happy for those warm blue eyes to have been the last thing she saw before the world went all to blackness.

* * *

The girl's body hit the wooden platform with a wretched 'crack' sound. Fili's gut sank in horror as she didn't stir, her body simply lying there, limp and broken. He'd seen her struggle. He'd seen her fall. Now, would he see her die, without even having known her name?

The Goblin King pointed his staff at her unconscious body, snarling, "Finish her and bring me her head at once!"

Fire flooded through Fili's veins as he tried to shake the goblins away from him, spitting, "Do not touch her!"

"Mahal, Fili!" Kili hissed, grabbing him back. "Shut up!"

Fili shot a glare back at his brother, but grudgingly held his tongue. For now.

The Goblin King completely ignored Fili's cry, and whirled around on Thorin. "Cut off his head!"

Fili let out a roar of outrage as the whole sea of goblins fluctuated around him, trying to get to their ordered targets. While the girl disappeared from view under the mass of them, Fili had a plenty clear view to see Thorin pinned to the ground, a long, curved dagger only inches from his face. Fili's heart pounded in his chest. No matter how much he fought out, there were just more goblins to replace the ones he'd thrown off. He was sinking.

Suddenly, a shining light, brighter than the sun, accompanied by a booming blast of wind and a blanket of silence burst across them. Fili had the legs swept out from under him and could only lay, gasping in shock. His eyes remained open, though, in order for him to see none other than Gandalf the Grey, walking out of the haze of smoke with his staff in one hand and the Foe-hammer raised in the other.

Fili and the others sat up from the ground and stared at the wizard in an abject daze. "Take up arms. Fight!" In a louder tone for the dwarves to hear, he raised up his sword and shouted, " _Fight!_ " Immediately, Fili rolled to his feet, and scrambled through the goblins for his weapons. When at last he had the familiar weight of his dual blades in his hands, he set to work, wreaking havoc on the still loopy goblins at his feet. Just as Fili had decapitated two of the beasties at once, he heard the king shout out, "He wields the Foe-hammer, the beater, bright as daylight!"

Fili rolled his eyes. Did that thing ever stop crying out dramatically?

Suddenly, he remembered the girl. Unconscious. Possibly dead. Right. He would have to play hero.

He blazed through the herds of goblins, but still only found himself pushing a few feet forward. Just as before, there was an endless supply, it seemed, hundreds just waiting to gouge themselves on his blade.

Fili was drawn from this as he realized this would only waste his energy and strength. Gandalf shouted at the dwarves, "Follow me. Quick! Run!" Fili watched as his companions abandoned their fights, hurrying after the wizard as he guided them down a wooden walkway. Trepidation settled into him. The girl was just a few feet away, but would he really be able to carry her with them? Would it be worth it?

Either way, he was thinking about this far too long. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he slashed his way through the remaining goblins. "Kili!" He shouted as he finally saw the body. "A little help!"

The girl was battered and bloody, lying completely still. Fili knelt beside her, feeling along her slender neck for a heartbeat. There was a dreadfully long few moments before he found it, faint, but certainly existent. By now, his brother was at his side. "Bloody—Is she dead?" Kili asked, horror in his voice.

Fili shook his head numbly. "Still alive for now. Help me get her on my back."

They worked quickly, quite aware of their present circumstances, and soon enough, the girl was slung across his back, and Fili was a bit precariously on his feet. He didn't waste a moment, taking off after his companions.

Fili and Kili caught up to the company and continued to flee from the goblins through bridges to bridges, like some sick child's maze. The weight of the girl across his back was somewhat of a hindrance, but Kili compensated well for this, clearing the path for the both of them. When there was too many of them to get rid of, the taller dwarf, Dwalin, used his knife to cut free a wooden railing next to him. They used this well, shoving a row of goblins off the bridge, and then again to catch the next wave of them. Once the bridge was cleared from the creatures, they dropped the railing down and continued onward. However, only more approached the company as they swung their swords, hammers, and axe at the foul creatures.

Fili struggled somewhat blindly after his companions as they dragged him through this labyrinth. He had to fight as best as he could to keep the goblins from getting their hands on the unconscious girl over his shoulders.

Soon it became apparent that the goblins were a bit more advanced than they thought, as arrows came flying at them. Kili blocked the arrows with his sword and in a moment, abandoned this in favor of using the ladder beside him to clear off the goblins. He detached it from the wall and had the others take a part of the ladder as they charged in, pushing off the archer goblins. Fili followed as they approached a large empty gap between two of the swaying platforms. Luckily, by the time he got there, they had already set the ladder down over the gap, and Fili was able to scramble across it. He continued running until they stumbled the end of the bridge. Kili was quick to cut off the rope that attached to the bridge to the rest of the platforms, and soon, they were out, swinging to and fro above empty space. When the bridge swung close to the other side of the cavern, a few of the dwarves and Gandalf jumped off, while the others had to wait and fight off the goblins that had joined them on the broken off bridge.

At last, it came to be Fili's turn to jump. His heart caught in his chest for a moment the second before he took his leap. Would the weight of the girl slow him down? Would he make it? He quickly shook those thoughts out of his head, and jumped.

He hit the other platform hard, crumpling to his knees under the weight of the girl as well as his armor. Hissing out curses, he managed to haul himself to his feet, running after the company.

Soon, Gandalf spotted a massive hanging rock above his head and with a massive crack, he separated it from the wall, setting it rolling down the path behind them, crushing hundreds of goblins on its way. As they continued onto another wooden bridge, the Goblin King exploded from underneath it, cutting off the dwarves' path. They were forced to an abrupt stop as goblins swarmed around them. Fili slashed his sword around him, a warning, making sure the goblins wouldn't come near him or the maiden.

"You thought you could escape me!" The king smirked down at Gandalf and pushed him and the dwarves back with his fat fingers. "What are you going to do now, wizard?" Gandalf replied by promptly jabbing out the king's eye with his wooden staff and cutting opened his belly with Glamdring. The Goblin King fell onto his knees on the bridge as he looked up at the elderly wizard. "That'll do it." Gandalf then raised up his sword and slashed the great goblin's throat.

The goblin fell back, breaking the bridge below him and plunging the company into the deep cavern underneath them. Fili lost his balance for a moment as the whole platform shuddered and tilted beneath him, and all of the sudden, the girl was slipping off of his back. He tried to regain his grip on her arms, but it was too late. She dropped from his back.

Fili had barely kept himself held onto the platform, and was more than a bit glad when they safely landed on the cave's ground.

"Well, that could have been worse," Bofur observed, bloody cheerful as ever.

Just then, the lifeless body of the great goblin landed on top them, increasing weight and crushing the dwarves even further.

Dwalin groaned, "You've got to be joking!"

Fili was inclined to agree

* * *

The world filtered back terribly slowly, piece by piece, sensation by sensation. There was a terrible throbbing in her head, a stinging fire in her arm, a pounding ache in her gut. The air was hot and faintly reeking of something she did not know. The rock was cold and rough beneath her cheek. Above the pounding of her heartbeat, another sound drifted to her. The cracking and snapping of wood. The groaning of rough, familiar voices.

She forced her eyelids open, flinching as the light cut through her head. The company of dwarves was lying about in various states of injury in a massive pile of broken boards and splintered wood. "What happened?" She mumbled as she dragged herself off of the ground, all of her muscles screaming in terrible protest. She must have passed out when she hit the ground. Did they carry her with them to safety?

A voice startled her slightly, and she looked up to see Fili, a relieved smile lighting his face. "You're alive!"

Aeldre frowned in a bit of confusion, nodding, saying, "As are you," as quietly as she could. He may have very well saved her life, but that didn't mean that she had to be too chummy with him.

Just as Aeldre had stopped seeing black spots as she stood, one of the dwarves shouted for the wizard's attention, "Gandalf!"

They all gazed up to see that the whole wall of the cave was moving with a sea of goblins, scurrying down at a frighteningly fast pace, straight for them. "There's too many, we can't fight them." Dwalin said, dread heavy in his tone.

"Only one thing will save us. Daylight! Come on!" Gandalf helped the dwarves who were still under the rubble, "Here, on your feet!" The group started to run towards an exit to the daylight.

Aeldre found herself stumbling and swaying as she tried to run, more dark spots swelling up every place she looked. The throbbing in her gut had only worsened, each of her breaths stinging. She felt sick and faint all at once. She felt herself pitching over as her foot caught on a particular rock, her balance disappearing in a heartbeat. Immediately, the young dark-haired dwarf swooped in beside her catching her by both arms. He held her close for a short moment, breathing in her ear, "Are you alright?"

"No, Aeldre gasped, her heart pounding in her throat. "Not really."

In the darkness, a frown flashed onto his face. "It's just a little further," he assured her, lifting her up to her feet.

Aeldre nodded to herself, before pulling away from the dwarf and staggering onwards on her own. They burst out of the cave and only continued flying down the hill. Gandalf stopped on a small rocky outcropping to count the dwarves as they ran past. "Five, six, seven, eight. Bifur, Bofur, that's ten. Fili, Kili, that's twelve. And Bombur, that makes thirteen." Finally, he reached the fourteenth member, who was absent in the company. "Where's Bilbo?" he asked tone wary. "Where is our hobbit? Where is our hobbit?!" Gandalf shouted.

"Curse that Halfling!" swore the red-headed dwarf. "Now he's lost! I thought he was with Dori!"

The dwarf, apparently Dori, protested. "Don't blame me!"

"And where did you last see him?" Gandalf asked.

The dwarf with an axe attached to his forehead mentioned about what he had seen the hobbit. But he had spoken in Dwarvish, rather than speaking normal English like the rest.

Gandalf was clearly becoming very distressed. "What happened exactly? Tell me!"

Aeldre, who was behind of the group, finally caught with them. She leaned herself against a tree, ignoring Fili and the young dwarf's concerned gazes in favor of trying to catch her breath. She felt awful. She scanned through the company, counting the dwarves for herself, and found that, indeed, there were only thirteen. Her heart dropped. Was there any chance he could still be alive?

Thorin spoke then, his frustrated tone hardly over a grumble. "I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door." He shook his head in disgust. "We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone."

Aeldre found herself not wanting to believe what Thorin had said. The Halfling wouldn't really flee like that, right?

The half-breed tempted to speak up, but the voice of a hobbit interrupted her. "No, he isn't."

Everybody startled slightly, before turning to see the hobbit, standing battered but alive on the hill.

Gandalf chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Bilbo Baggins. I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life."

"Bilbo, we'd given you up!" Fili's brother said.

"How on earth did you get past the goblins?" Fili asked in amazement.

Dwalin crossed his arms and became curious as well to know. "How indeed?"

Bilbo let out a nervous laugh and hesitated to watched with curiosity as he tucked his hand deep into his vest pocket. While he tried to pass it off as a simple nervous gesture, there was something else behind it…

"Oh what does it matter?" Gandalf said, nodding to himself as he carefully watched Bilbo's movement. "He's back."

"It matters." Thorin growled, advancing on the hobbit with a scowl. "I want to know. Why did you come back?"

Bilbo looked at Thorin then at all the others, waiting for his response and sighed. "Look, I know you doubt me. I know…I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong," he said, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. "That's home. And that's why I came back, because…you don't have one. A home," he added in explanation after a moment. "It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."

Enduring all sores and aches, Aeldre found she had cracked a weary smile. She could relate with Biblo's homesickness. She knew the journey she's in will take month, or possibly a year. Aeldre would often think of Rivendell. She missed Elrond, Arwen, and the twins. She already couldn't wait to be back in her adopted family's arms.

Thorin's scowl softened into what could have possibly been edging onto a smile, and he slowly nodded his head. He then noticed the injured half-breed by the tree and the unnoticeable smile had faded instantly. Thorin called out for her attention, "You." He barely waited for her weary gaze to shift to him to speak. "What are you doing here amongst the company? I don't recall asking for your 'help'."

Aeldre sighed as she carefully lifted her back up from the tree and keeping her balance. "I wasn't meant to stalk your company, Master dwarf." She breathed out short amount of breath because of the aching pain of her rib made it difficult for her to breathe normally. "I was… hoping to… possibly join you and your company… to Erebor."

The dwarves glanced at each other, exchanging looks of confusion and surprise.

"You? Joining us? Girl, I do not even know who you are." Thorin scoffed, "Why should I allow a stranger, an elf, to be amongst us? Your little rescue mission with the goblins wasn't exactly impressive. I believe that you'll just be a burden and slow us down, nothing else."

Aeldre flinched to the sound of Thorin's words, "Yes I know that you do not know me, not have I yet given you…given you much reason to believe in me, but…but…" Her vision suddenly began to haze and her legs were gradually losing balance, a surge of nausea breaking her down to her knees.

Fili rushed to her, kneeling beside her, his brother trailing after him. He placed his hand on her shoulder and eased her into a sitting position. "You have not recovered yet, my lady. You need to get these wounds checked and quick." Fili said.

Aeldre could not respond to the blonde dwarf. The painin her gut was growing overwhelming, and her head had been receiving headaches that were too unbearable to handle. Fili was right. She needed to get her wounds treated if she wants to stay alive and find her father.

Gandalf sighed, "Thorin—"

Suddenly, pounding footsteps scampered down the mountain and howls of animals were nearby. Aeldre's blood ran cold. The company was all too familiar with the howls and took them as a clear sign of danger.

Thorin looked up at the mountainside as he said, "Out of the frying pan."

Gandalf added, "And into the fire. Run." He shouted to the group, "Run!"


	6. Chapter 6: Azog

Fili's brother glanced up at the mountain to see at least a dozen wargs flying down the hill towards them. "The wargs are approaching!" he warned as the other dwarves fled around them, "Fili, we must go now!"

Shots of pain coursed through her as Aeldre was slowly lifted up from the ground by the help of the dwarf brothers, "Valar, I…I don't think… I'll last…" she breathed, "Just…"

"If you think we'll be leaving you behind after all of this, you're more mad than I thought," Fili said, still managing a smile, albeit a somewhat tense one, despite their present dire circumstances. "It's just a little further, aye?" Fili said, his eyes meeting hers.

An odd sensation gripped her heart as he looked into her. It was as if a hand, hot and like ice at the same time was squeezing on it, taking her breath away. Why was he trying to help her? Why hadn't he just left her behind? And why was he still looking at her like she held the answers to all of the questions he could ever want answered? And why was she _letting_ him? At last, she managed a nod, and the spell was broken, their seemingly endless journey away from danger continuing.

The wargs behind them were far too close. Aeldre could hear their jaws snapping, practically feel their hot, rank breath on her neck. Still, she had little choice but to let the dwarves drag her along. She had reached her limit. Aeldre's heart leapt into her throat as a warg ran up along a rock and jumped in front of Bilbo. The hobbit froze in fright as the warg twisted around, before lunging around at Bilbo, snarling. However, the hobbit took out his sword and jabbed the warg directly into his head. The light died in the creature's eyes, but Aeldre could see the fear and horror on Bilbo's face as he let go of the sword and wouldn't move an inch from the creature's brain. The poor Halfling had experienced his first kill.

More of the creatures had caught up to the company and the dwarves alternated between turning to fight and continuing their desperate flight down the mountainside. A warg suddenly appeared in front of Aeldre and the brothers. It lunged directly at her, until Fili leapt in front of her, and barely having had time to draw one of his swords, slashed it across the face. Aeldre felt mildly alarmed as the beast fell back, writhing, and Fili merely sheathed his sword and grabbed Aldre's arm back up with a murmured, "Come on."

Was it just her injuries or was everything happening far too fast?

The group continued further down the mountain side, until they stumbled upon a cliff that would surely lead them to death if they took another step. Aeldre felt her heart drop after realizing it was another dead end.

"Up into the trees." Gandalf shouted. "All of you! Come on, climb!" He glanced at the hobbit, gesturing him to hurry along. "Bilbo, climb!"

Fili used his brother to help him get up into the tree branch. "Give me your hand," he ordered, in a rather calm tone. Aeldre could still see the panic thinly veiled behind his eyes. With little but a moment of hesitation, Aeldre reached up, grabbing tightly to his warm hand. A hissing groan of pain escaped from her as he drew her up. Valar, she hurt. "Just a little longer, " Fili assured her as she got herself up onto the lowest branch. "Keep climbing for me." Aeldre followed Fili further up into the climb, enduring the sharp ache in her body and her head. Fili's brother trailed up behind her, catching her from her numerous falls. Once they were high enough to be out of reach from the beasts, Aeldre sat on the thickest branch, gasping breath back into herself.

The wargs caught up to the trees filled with dwarves and surrounded them, glaring up at them with glittering amber eyes, their jaws snapping up at them. They had sense their leader approaching. The alpha was a white warg with a glistening coat of silvery fur, and on its back was an orc with skin pale as the moon. He had hundreds of scratch marks strewn across his pale skin, battle scars. His right hand had long since been forcefully removed, and had been replaced with something similar to a hook, but with multiple spikes. His eyes were blue, like Fili's, but more a blue of ice and winter as opposed to a blue of cloudless, summer skies. One glance from the orc sent shivers running down her spine.

Thorin suddenly shouted, "Azog!"

Azog sniffed the air, " _Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast?_ " He spoke in black speech that Aeldre could not understand, but it had an eerie tone. He glanced up at Thorin, " _Ganziliz I unarug obod nauzdanish… Torin undag Train._ "

Thorin was in disbelief, "It cannot be."

Azog pointed his weapon up at the dwarf, " _Kod… toragid biriz… Goridug!_ " The wargs began their attack and started to jump to bite the dwarves hanging off the trees. Their claws dug into the trunk of the tree, leaving long gouges in the bark as they slide down and back up. " _Shog agradol!_ " The wargs grabbed onto branches with their fangs, tearing them off one by one, shaking the tree vigorously to make the dwarves lost their balance.

A warg grabbed hold of a branch beneath Aeldre, reaching for her leg. Quickly, she pulled out a long, silver dagger from the sheath on her right side and lashed it at the beast. It left a deep cut across its snout, and the beast yelped in pain, falling off of the branch with a howl of anguish. The hilt of her dagger nearly slipped out of her hand. The blood from her arm was running down her wrist, slicking her hand. Would she be able to hang on to life for a little longer? Valar help her get through it.

Suddenly, the wargs forcefully pushed the trees off of their roots with their strength of the paws, accompanied by the sound of tearing earth. Aeldre hung on to the trunk of her tree as it fell onto the tree behind them. "My lady!" Fili called, "hold onto me!" Aeldre hardly had time to react before the blonde dwarf took her hand and pulled her onto his back, jumping over to the last tree standing over the cliff with the other dwarves. Aeldre blindly gripped onto the wide breadth of his shoulders as the world pitched around her. Her head was spinning, chest and ribs throbbing. She leaned her forehead into Fili's neck, trying to regain some sort of wit about her.

The world came into view again as Fili eased her arms away from him, holding her steady by the shoulders as he eased her into sitting on the new tree branch.

Aeldre let her head fall back into the tree behind her, trying to work proper breaths back into her lungs, despite the pain that attacked her chest every time she breathed in. A hand brushed the hair away from her cheek, and she dragged open her eyes to see Fili looking down at her, concerned. "Just stay with us, my lady."

"It…it hurts to…"

"Hush," Fili urged her, with a soft squeeze to her shoulder. "We'll get you out of this. Just stay still here."

Aeldre nodded, bringing her arm up to wrap around the tree trunk and hold her steady. The least she could do after Fili helped her so much was obey him for this.

The canine creatures surrounded the last standing tree, trying to reach for the dwarves, spitting, drooling and snarling. Aeldre's fading eyes stared into the distance at the pale orc as he smiled and laughed. Her mind, regardless of throbbing headaches, wandered through memories as some flashed between her eyes. Bits of fragments appeared in a second, mostly remembering what happened to her mother, before she had lost her. There was something familiar about Azog that she could not remember. Pale skin and malicious ice blue eyes… Where had she seen him before?

Suddenly, a burning object, what appeared to be a pine cone, was thrown down at the wargs as it left a trail of fire, scaring the beasts away. "Fili!" Gandalf shouted, dropping a cone lit on fire for the dwarf. Aeldre watched him numbly as he blew on the pinecone to increase fire around it and sharing the fire with Bilbo as he blew on his pinecone as well. Every dwarf around Aeldre had a burning pine cone in their hand and threw them down at the wargs, making it look as if it was raining fire. The wargs that could scattered away as the fire formed a barrier, while some were caught in the its embrace. Azog roared out of frustration, but the dwarves cheered, victorious. Aeldre was impressed. It seemed that one should never underestimate dwarves. She smiled despite herself.

Soon the cheers ended as the tree started to lose its balance with the weight the group had given it, falling toward cliff. Aeldre quickly grabbed herself a tighter hold as it gradually descends further down. Her feet began to dangle off the branch as her grip was slowly losing its touch of the tree. Quickly, Aeldre used her remaining strength and stabbed her dagger into the tree, using it as her only support to hang on. The aching pain in her stomach was making it difficult for her to hold on and she was tempted to let go to relieve the pain. She felt weak to lift herself up as a throbbingly cool sensation numbed her entire body. Would she die before she could see the rest of the world? Would she not be able to see her father one last time? Her own blood, it seemed, would be the death of her as it slicked the handle of her dagger. Her grip was sliding.

"No!" Fili grabbed her wrist before her fingers could let of her dagger.

Aeldre's eyes widened, "What are you—"

"—I will not let go, you hear me?! I said I will help and I will keep my word. Don't you dare give up!" He shouted, struggling to keep a grip on her wrist as he hauled her up. "I am not going to make this heroic moment a waste, y'hear me?! You will live whether you like it or not!"

Aeldre couldn't believe what the dwarf was trying to do for her. Was he actually mad? Or did he somehow actually care about her already? "You're a fool," she choked, heat welling in her eyes. Looking back on that moment, she would cite the cause of that being exhaustion, not the absurdly fixated dwarf before her. She held back the pain that was weakening her body and lifted her other arm up to grab onto the branch that Fili was on. She used the dwarf's help to lift herself up onto the branch and settled herself down on her back close to him.

Just then, Thorin lifted himself up to his feet on the tree, his expression stormy with rage, directed at Azog. Everyone watched him in horror as he marched off the tree trunk, a solid shield of a gnarled log on one arm, Orcrist glinting in his other hand. His walking gradually increased into a charge through the fire towards the pale orc, who welcomed him with open arms and a malicious grin. He raised up his sword in the air as he neared the beast. However, Azog and his warg companion jumped off the rock they were on, over Thorin, plowing him off of his feet. Aeldre's heart dropped in his chest, and she watched in growing dread as he picked himself up again to fight back. Azog came reeling back around, socking Thorin hard underneath the chin with his mace, a terrible 'crack' hitting her ears above the crackling of the flames. As soon as he'd hit the ground, Azog's warg caught him into his jagged fangs as Thorin screamed out a roar of pain. He swung his sword at the creature to let him go, but it merely threw him towards the rock where he laid there, dead still. Was he dead? Had his foolhardy behavior killed him? The dwarves around him screamed for their leader, but struggled to get back on their feet on the precarious log.

Azog glanced over to an orc behind him as he told it in Black speech, " _Biriz torag khobdudol._ " The smaller orc drew a terrible knife from its sheath and hopped off its warg, approaching the defenseless dwarf on the rock. Bilbo, whom Aeldre had noticed gotten up onto his bare feet, drew out his sword, turning it a few times in his grasp. As if he was preparing. Was he—

The orc hovered the curved blade over his neck as Thorin tempted to grab his sword, but it was inches out of his grasp. The orc lifted his blade high into the air-

Suddenly, the hobbit shot into the orc before it could deal the killing blow. The orc pushed him off to the ground but Bilbo was quick, thrusting his blade into its side, and then again through its chest. Bilbo then got up from the orc and stepped in front of Thorin, who was still lying, motionless. Azog seemed shocked to see the auburn-haired hobbit guarding his prey. Aeldre found herself wide-eyed as well. She wouldn't have thought such a little creature would have the courage to save his friend and stand up to the pale orc.

Azog snarled at Bilbo as the Halfling threw couple of swings to warn the orcs that he wouldn't be afraid to fight back for Thorin. " _Gorid dum_ ," Azog hissed as the other orcs approached him with their beast companions. He swung few more slashes, but it didn't scare them off. They knew he was well outnumbered, so they had the advantage. Until, of course, reinforcements came.

Aeldre watched as one by one, the dwarves drew out their weapons, charging onto the battlefield to save their friends. They fought viciously with all of the energy they had left. This was their final stand against this evil. Bilbo followed them and fought side by side with his dwarven company. The half-breed couldn't be any more impressed by this group. She could see their determination and their devotion to each other as they fought in tandem, like a well oiled mechanism. There was a fire in their hearts that not even the loss of their leader could extinguish. Aeldre knew then, that she had chosen to right group to share an adventure with.

As she saw Bilbo locked in a horribly uneven conflict with the pale orc, she knew that it was time for her to take action. Pushing away the web of pulsating pain that threaded throughout her, she yanked the dagger out from the tree. Once she was able to take it out, she forced herself up to her feet and staggered forward, doing her best to hold onto what was left of her balance. The white warg bared its fangs at the Halfling and the orc was ready to swing his mace into Bilbo's chest. However, Aeldre leapt in between the two, baring her dagger at the warg. Azog growled a low chilling sound down at the half-breed, fury glinting in the shallow pools of his eyes. Aeldre met this glare as best she could, despite the black spots swelling in her eyes. She would have attacked the warg, had nausea and breathlessness not caught up to her all at once, dragging her down to her knees with a strangled cry. She could do little more than glare up at the orc as he laughed at her pitiful attempt at rescue, raising his mace again.

Bilbo blocked her view suddenly, as he rushed to her side and shielded her from the pale orc. He kept his sword ready as their enemy paced closer.

Just then, the faint sounds of large flapping wings filled the air. Aeldre lifted up her head to see what was coming. Giant birds, she thought. Massive, tawny creatures each of them the size of a horse, circling over them. Valar, was she just seeing things?

The odd vision became more and more real as the birds swooped down, grabbing up the orcs with their glinting talons, then throwing them off the side of the cliff. They knocked down trees to crush the orcs and used the gusts of air under their wings to guide the flames in the direction of their enemies. Bilbo and Aeldre watched the birds in awe as one of them scooped up Thorin and his Goblin-Cleaver with its talons, leaving behind his branch-shield. Azog roared out of anger as he was useless to keep the birds from stealing his prey. Soon, a bird flew in front of Bilbo and took him into its talons, sweeping him up into the night air. The other birds had done the same to the dwarves, and Aeldre was the only one left on the burning cliff.

She had little energy left, or will to move, and since she had fallen on her back, she watched with blurring eyes, as a great bird circled down onto her, grabbing her up surprisingly gently in its massive talons. As her hood fell away from her face, the feeling of the cool wind brushed against her skin and comforted her with a gentle caress. She was peace as she soaring through the sky like she had wings of her own. The last thing she saw, before drifting into blackness was the soft, feathered down of the birds belly, swaying in the wind.

The calming wind had come to a halt as her back gently dropped onto a cold, flat surface. The muffled sounds around her became sharper, clearer, as consciousness returned to her. She slowly opened her eyes to the bright light of the sun and a blurry vision of familiar faces next to her. One of them spoke to her but it talked as if time had slowed down, too muddled for her to understand. But her sight became clear soon enough and so did her hearing. It was none other than Fili and his brother, who looked incredibly relieved to see her awake.

"Fili…" She breathed.

"You're alive," Fili sighed, as if it was the greatest relief he'd ever experienced.

Beside him, his brother grinned a bit smugly. "Of course she is. I told you she would be."

Aeldre eased her head off of the ground a bit, trying to get a look at her surroundings, and Fili quickly moved to help her, lifting her into a sitting position. She looked around her to realize she was on top of a tall rock surrounded by vast valleys of green and jagged dark grey mountains. She saw the giant flying creatures circling around them. "Those birds… did they rescue us from the orcs?" she asked.

"And brought us here to safety," Fili's brother confirmed.

"I see…" She pulled away from Fili's support, slowly picking herself up onto her feet. She was creaking and aching with pain, but the cool breeze was doing wonders for her. It felt, at last, like she was catching back her breath.

"You!" Thorin's voice startled Aeldre as she glanced over to where he was. He was slowly pacing closer to the hobbit, who looked to be biting his tongue hard, flinching against Thorin's tone. She watched them as Thorin continued, "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!" He stared down at him with his usual scowl, "Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild, and you had no place amongst us." He gotten closer to the Halfling and Bilbo shrunk away. However he certainly wasn't prepared for Thorin to say, in a brutally honest tone, "I have never been so wrong, in all my life." Thorin pulled Bilbo into a sudden embrace, and the dwarves burst into a cheer. Thorin did have a heart then. Gandalf seemed extremely pleased to see Thorin had finally showed some friendly manner towards their fourteenth member, and Aeldre felt the same.

Thorin released Bilbo from his arms, "But, I'm sorry I doubted you."

Bilbo shook his head, "No, I..I would have doubted me too." He said, chuckling at himself. "I'm not a hero, nor a warrior. Not even a burglar."

Aeldre grinned at the hobbit. Their relationship had warmed her heart as it only reminded her of their loyalty to each other and how much they trusted each other. Their bonds were close as her bond with Rivendell was strong as well. They never failed to leave a smile on Aeldre's face, it seemed.

As the group watched the birds fly away, Aeldre noticed a single mountain peak, rising above the horizon. Everyone walked up to the ledge in a bit of a trance, to take a closer look. Bilbo said quietly after a moment, "Is that what I think it is?"

Gandalf laughed, "Erebor! The Lonely Mountain. The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle-Earth."

"Our home," Thorin breathed.

Aeldre's heart began to pound against her chest after the wizard had said the mountain's name. She could feel the tears building behind her eyes as thoughts of her father began to flood her mind. "Ada…" she whispered, holding back the tears. She couldn't believe how far she was from the mountain. How long she had yet to travel. "He must be there…"

Her soft whisper caught Gandalf's attention as he turned over his shoulder, to see Aeldre. "Child," he said, catching everybody's attention towards her.

Thorin turned as well, and the smile in his eyes faded as soon as he caught sight of her. "You. What are you still doing here?" he asked, coldly.

Her words fumbled in her mouth as all eyes lit on her, until Gandalf spoke to her again. "What is your name and where did you come from?"

She fixed her gaze onto the old wizard, ignoring the rest of the company staring at her. "My name is Aeldre and I have followed this company from Rivendell."

Gandalf looked surprised, "Rivendell?"

"Yes. I was born to an elven woman and a man, and raised by the Lord Elrond in his halls." She explained. "I discovered that the dwarves were going on a quest to reclaim their homeland, and I felt that I should accompany them. So here I am," she said with a shrug. "I have my part in the world to play, and my duties to fulfill and—"

Gandalf, curious, cut her off. "What is it that you must do?"

"I lost my father," she said simply. "I believe him to be still alive, and I will fight until the very end to see him again."

Thorin stepped in, "You cannot simply think that because of your whims, you will be allowed to be with us on this journey. We have plenty enough troubles without an elf in our ranks."

"I am not an elf!" Aeldre protested. "My mother was—"

"And that is enough for me!" Thorin shot back. "Stay here, or part ways with us within the day, I do not—"

"Have you no heart?" Aeldre snapped, ignoring the way her vision tried to blur the world around her. "Do you not understand that this could be my only chance? My only chance to be free from the life I've been forced to live? My father is wandering out there in the wilderness alone! I do not know where he could be, or if he's alive, or why he ran, or if he even would want to see me again! But I have to know!" Her voice was growing ragged. "There are enough questions in my life that have been left unanswered! There are enough things I have been unable to change. And now, when the answers are in my reach, when I am finally able to do something, you would tear that from me!?" She had been swaying that whole time, and now it was finally catching up with her. She staggered back a step, trying to catch her breath back into her aching lungs. "I have made enough mistakes…I have lost _enough!_ " Mother… "Thorin, I beg you, do not make this another loss…"

When she fell back, Fili's brother and another dwarf were there to catch her, easing her into sitting on the ground.

The short dwarf with a white long beard laid his hand on Thorin's shoulder. "Thorin, why not let her stay for a few days? At least until she's fully recovered?" he suggested.

Thorin mumbled, "The presence of elves sickens me."

Gandalf got closer to the leader of the company, "Thorin, leaving her stranded without any medical attention would be unwise decision for a king. Take Balin's suggestion. She does not have to join our ranks, but do not cast her out now. She can barely stand. It would be wise to find her somewhere safe to heal."

Thorin levelled his gaze at the wizard, "Why should I help an elf when no aid came to us from her kind?"

"For goodness sake, Thorin!" Gandalf scoffed, "Have you not listened what she had just said? She's merely half of an elf! Do not forget Thorin, she was raised by Lord Elrond, who willingly helped us find the door to Erebor. And she did not walk away when you needed help. Rather, she tried to save you, and got herself quite hurt enough in that effort can base your decisions upon! I have encountered plenty of elves and none showed the signs of selfishness and untrustworthy that you have seen in them! Now, you must remove that nonsense of your head and see that this is a girl injured for trying to help you, fading as we argue this very moment who you cannot cast away simply because of her parentage!"

Before Thorin could speak, Fili interrupted him. "Thorin, Gandalf's right. I know that you don't trust the elves of Mirkwood—with good reason as well—but she is not one of those elves. And I have made a promise to her, that I would help her. Uncle, you would not have me break that promise—"

Thorin let out a growl. "So, I am even betrayed by my own kin?"

Bilbo cleared his throat, interrupting, "They're right, Thorin. Now I wouldn't say I know all elves are not what you say they are. But I believe there are good elves in this world, and Aeldre has given us no reason to suspect that she is not one of them." Thorin glanced down at the hobbit as he continued to talk, "She's taken great risk trying to keep me—and the whole company—alive through this ordeal. I think it would be rude to do anything but help her recover)."

Thorin fumbled around his words, but he stayed silent.

Gandalf sighed, "Thorin, don't let the past interfere. You don't have to like her, nor do you have to trust her. But as the possible future King of Erebor, you must learn that decent, diplomatic behavior is never misplaced."

Their leader seemed frustrated to see that most of his company disagreed with him on this matter). "Fine," he huffed. "we'll have it your way, Gandalf." Thorin glared at Aeldre, "But know this. You have not earned my trust, elf. Do not expect a help from me. It troubles me enough to have an elf's presence amongst us." He said turning his back to her.

Aeldre, sighed in relief. It didn't matter particularly if Thorin trusted her to be in the company or not. As long as she wasn't being cast out quite yet, she had time to convince Thorin of her usefulness. "I don't expect you to, Thorin. Being a part of the company is not necessary to fulfill my mission… Once I found my father, you'll never have to see me again."

Thorin scoffed, "Let's hope it's soon, then."

The dwarves soon noticed a bird, and followed the animal with their eyes as it flew toward the mountain.

"A raven!" said one of the oldest dwarves in the group. "The birds are returning to the mountain."

"That, my dear Oin, is a thrush." Added Gandalf.

Thorin's smiled returned when he laid his eyes back on his home mountain, "Well, we'll take it as a sign." He glanced at the hobbit, "A good omen."

Bilbo smiled at the mountain of Erebor, "You're right. I do believe the worst is behind us."

Aeldre gazed at the distance to the tallest mountain, _Worry not father… I will find you soon, I promise._


	7. Chapter 7: Thank You

"We will make camp after we've reached the ground. We'll need to regain all of our strength and energy if we wish this quest to be successful." Thorin said to the company, "Nori, once we're there, get a fire going. Bombur, cook us something to eat."

His company responded with nodding and grumbling as they started towards the path. Aeldre was torn between responding to this or not. On one hand, it would be rude to not at least acknowledge his orders, but she seriously doubted that he at all cared about her opinion on any sort of matter, much less this. She shook that contemplative nonsense out of her head in a moment, turning to follow Fili as he went with the rest of the company.

The path wound down the side of the carrock, switching back and crossing itself the whole way down. The path was stone, crumbling and sliding away in some places. Carefully, Aeldre edged her way down behind the group, doing her best to stick to the cliffside behind her. The last thing she needed was to fall a hundred feet onto unforgiving stone. However, only a few yards down, her foot landed on a loose rock, and she felt her legs shoot from underneath her. The world pitched around her, her heart leaping into her throat, the fall leering before her eyes—

A pair of strong arms locked around her waist, hauling her away from the precipice. "Watch your step, Aeldre," a voice said into her ear. Fili's voice, a part of her mind supplied. Aeldre shivered at the sensation of his breath on her skin, and she eased herself away from him, embarrassment burning on her face, and the oddest sensation gripping her heart in an iron fist. "We wouldn't want you to injure yourself anymore," he added, a soft smile lighting his lips as she straightened her cloak out.

Aeldre hid her face slightly, clearing her throat and willing her heart to stop beating so cursedly fast. "I can take care of myself. Thank you." A pulsating pain ached from her chest, and she gently wrapped her arm around it as she held back a sigh. Sweet Valar!

Finally, the company reached the foot of their perch, wandering a few hundred yards into the forest. Nori immediately started on the fire, gathering fallen logs and branches and placing them in a pile. The other dwarf, Bombur, began putting together some sort of stew in a large cast-iron pot. Aeldre took the opportunity to ease herself to the ground, leaning against a tree a bit away from the company. All of her muscles throbbed. Her skin throbbed. Her head throbbed. Valar, every part of her ached. She allowed her eyes to slide closed, trying to even out her ragged breaths.

The sound of footsteps reopened her eyes, and she was somewhat surprised to look up and see that Fili had come to crouch beside her, an incredibly warm smile written across his face. Aeldre wanted to ask why he was there, why he seemed so determined to take care of her. But the words stuck in her throat, and instead, she let Fili speak.

"How are you holding up?"

Aeldre tore her gaze away from that smile, refusing to blush for such a stupid reason. "Truthfully, not very well. I think…" she winced as a sharp pain dug into her ribs. "I think I may have broken something. It's difficult to breathe… and my head..."

Fili's smile faded to concern, and all of the sudden he was lifting a hand towards her. Aeldre flinched back from this touch, and Fili hurried to explain himself. "I'd like to take a look at your wounds, if you would allow me."

He saw the hesitation written across Aeldre's face and sighed. "I'm no medic, of course, but trust me, I've seen plenty of wounds in my time. If these go untreated…" he didn't need to finish that for Aeldre to understand his point.

"Fine," she bit out.

He slid a bit closer, his eyes leaving her face to sweep over the rest of her. He reached out to move aside her cloak from around her, revealing the jagged wound on her arm. The bleeding had slowed slightly, but still her arm and hand were stained scarlet, the sleeve of her brown shirt likely ruined. With one last glance to her face, Fili secured her wrist in one hand, peeling back the sleeve from the wound with the other. Aeldre flinched as the dull throbbing of the wound sharpened into a shot of pain, up into her shoulder.

Fili's breath escaped in a hiss as he saw the cut properly. "This is bad. It'll need stitches, and soon. You'll bleed out."

Aeldre gritted her teeth. The dwarf was right. Didn't mean that she liked getting stitches any more though.

He set her arm carefully to the side, before hesitating. Aeldre noticed his eyes lingering on her arm, wrapped about her injured ribs, and far too suddenly, he gestured at her midsection, asking a bit sheepishly, "May I?"

Sighing as best as her ribs would let her, Aeldre lifted her arm away. Fili leaned in a bit closer, then his fingers were suddenly on the untucked edge of her tunic, lifting up—

Aeldre moved quickly, slapping his hand away, a blush flooding her cheeks. "Master Dwarf, I—"

Fili hushed her quickly, his bright blue eyes going wide. "I just need to see the skin!" his hands were up, as if in surrender, his cheeks going a bit red as well. "Bruising's the main thing I know to look for and…"

He waited for Aeldre's reply, his face turning increasingly redder in embarrassment. Aeldre grit her fists, her intellect and emotions arguing in her head. Finally, her intellect won out and she huffed, looking away, and leaving her side open. Fili seemed to take this as an "okay" seeing as he reached for her shirt again, gingerly lifting it up, only to expose her ribs. Based on his sigh, whatever he saw wasn't good news. She jerked slightly, as his calloused fingers brushed against her tender skin, sending pain and tingling sliding up her side. She was about to reprimand him, when he sat back up, letting her shirt fall back into place. "They're bruised very badly, at the very least. Possibly cracked."

Aeldre swore under her breath. That was just what she needed.

"Rest for now. I'll see what I can do in the way of healing. I can, at the very least, find you something to dull the pain."

Aeldre nodded slowly, mumbling out, "Thank you."

Fili was silent, and in a bit of curiosity she looked up, only to freeze. He was pinning her with the strangest of looks. It seemed dreamy and far away, especially paired with the wistful smile on his lips. At the same time though, it was incredibly intense, as if he was putting her features to memory. Her heart was thudding hard, her face feeling far too hot, and Valar, was she getting flustered by his attention? "Can I help you, Master Dwarf?"

Her words seemed to startle him out of whatever strange stupor he was in, and his smile grew, even as he shook his head, glancing away and lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "Sorry, Milady. It's just[,](-)I hadn't, before now, had the chance to properly see your beauty."

Aeldre's eyes went wide at his forwardness, and she nearly choked on her own spit. She regained her composure as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the dopey absolutely stunning, an irritating part of her brain added grin on his face. "While I appreciate your help, that by no sense means that I have given you permission to mock me."

Fili's smile fell away, to be replaced by an entirely serious expression as he murmured, "I assure you, I was, by no means mocking you."

Valar. The way his voice had turned all soft and baritone, the way she could almost feel his breath on her skin, the way his gaze bored into her, taking in every inch of her face, every blink of her eyes, the way he said those words to make them somehow seem like the most personal, the most intimate thing ever to be said…She…she loathed it.

At least, that's what she convinced herself that curling warmth in her chest was.

"It is best, I think," she began, her voice unusually rough for some reason. "That you keep those thoughts to yourself then."

The intensity on Fili's face gave way to guilt, and that feeling flooded Aeldre's chest as well. Dammit, what was he doing to her? Whatever it was, it certainly had to stop soon, seeing as she just about melted as he smiled remorsefully. "I'm very sorry, Milady. I…I did not mean to make you uncomfortable…Perhaps…" whatever it was he was about to say, he stopped before it could come out of his mouth. "I'll go find water. For—for your wounds that is. I'm very sorry," he repeated, before practically leaping to his feet, and hurrying away from her.

Aeldre set her head back onto the tree behind her, trying not to squirm at the strange, fuzzy feelings invading her chest. This was all just too much! What was happening to her? She was a warrior-woman, not some village lass to be charmed by whatever young man or dwarf that came along.

Just as she had set to rationalizing these feelings, she noticed Fili's brother venturing through the crowded trees towards her. "Where is he going?" he asked, once in earshot.

The half-breed glanced up and cleared her throat sending those disturbing thoughts out of her head. "He said he's going to find water to clean my wounds."

He nodded. "I see," he gazed down and smiled a bright, sunny smile far too close to that of his brother, holding out a hand to shake. "My name is Kili, I'm Fili's younger brother."

She hesitated to take his hand, but did so anyway, out of politeness. There was no need to make more enemies than she already had. "I've… figured as much." She said.

When the handshake had ended, the silence following was more than a bit awkward. Finally, Kili spoke. "Do you mind if I sit next to you? I can always leave you alone, if that is what you want," he added quickly after a moment, running a hand through his hair. Aeldre was tempted to tell him to go, but what may have been guilt held her back, and she gave him permission to sit beside her. Kili seemed pleased at the invitation, and did so happily, but then the silence still hung between them, heavy and awkward. "Um… that's a nasty wound you got there on your arm." He mentioned motioning towards it.

Aeldre almost had forgotten that it was exposed, "Your brother said it needs stitches, but I doubt your medic would leap at the chance to help me."

Kili sighed, "Aye, dwarves don't exactly have a good connection with the elves. We're even worse with the elves of Mirkwood though."

Aeldre's heart stopped for a split second after the word 'Mirkwood' had spilled out of his mouth. "What… What is your quarrel with the woodland realm?"

"According to Thorin, brought our entire kingdom tumbling to the ground," Kili chuckled. Upon seeing that this brought no amusement from her, he continued, sobering. "Thorin told us the Elvenking went back on his word and abandoned the dwarves of Erebor after Smaug attacked. We were lost, wounded, hungry, and the Elvenking turned his back on us. In our time of need, they would not help us. Since then, Thorin and the dwarves have never trusted the elves."

Aeldre looked at Thorin, who was speaking to the tall dwarf and the kindly one with the snow-white beard. "…I suppose I understand that. You seem very familiar with Thorin. What is your relation to him?"

"He's my uncle," Aeldre's eyes went wide for a moment. "Our mother is Thorin's sister. He doesn't have children of his own, so Fili is the next heir to the throne."

This information hit her hard. The blonde dwarf, with his silly smiles, and stuttering words, the heir of a kingdom? "Are you…"

"Quite sure," Kili responded before she had finished the question, chuckling.

"He doesn't look it," Aeldre said to herself, frowning.

This drew a full laugh out of Kili, a deep-bellied, ringing sound. He had a good laugh. Perhaps his brother...Aeldre absolutely refused to continue that line of thought. "I'll have to tell him you said that!" Before Aeldre could comment on that, a thought occurred to him. "Oh, I have something that you seem to have forgotten back at the goblin cave." He took out graceful Elvish sword of Hadhafang from underneath his coat.

Aeldre gasped despite herself, "Hadhafang!"

Kili handed back her sword that she had unfortunately forgotten, her most precious possession that belonged to her sister, Arwen. Aeldre fought back a smile, running a finger down the still shining length of the blade. "I found it in the tunnels while we were escaping. I could not possibly leave it behind, not while it seemed too valuable." Aeldre raised the sword straight, letting the light run its shimmering fingers down the blade's curling etching. Pleasant memories flooded back, of Arwen, who she dearly missed so much. She smiled softly contentment settling in her chest like a cat in a sunbeam.

Kili had noticed how relieved she was to finally be reunited with her trusted sword. "That sword, it means something to you."

Aeldre sighed, "Yes. It belongs to a friend of mine. A very dear friend. She gave it to me temporarily, only, so that I will remember to come back to her and return it. It is…A promise or sorts, really."

She had noticed a smile had spread across his face, "It seems you and I have something in common." he drew out a small, dark stone carved with some sort of rune. "'Return to me,'" Kili told her. "That's what it says." She watched Fili's younger brother gazing the stone, memories shining out behind his gaze, "It was given to me by my mother so I can remember her promise."

Aeldre found herself smiling as she murmured, "That you would return to her."

Perhaps these dwarves weren't too different from elves as they thought.

Kili gave her the stone to let her see it closer, "She thinks I'm a reckless fool," He shrugged. "I don't see it."

Aeldre lowered her sword to the ground beside her and took the stone. She chuckled as she gazed at the smooth rune stone running a thumb over the carefully recessed lines, "Lord Elrond thought of me the same way."

"It seems we both have our protective family worrying about us."

Aeldre couldn't agree more. "Never let go of that promise," she told him, placing the stone back into his palm. "It could keep you from the very edge of death.

Kili nodded his head, tucking the stone safely away into his pocket. "Don't worry. Dying's not in my plans. I'm going to be king under the mountain! After Fili's gone, of course," he added hastily, before continuing in a lower, fakely conspiring voice. "Mysteriously. In the middle of the night. Leaving all of his inheritance to his younger brother who certainly had no part in planning his sudden death."

Aeldre smothered a snort of laughter as Bofur walked up to the two with a bowl of stew. "I hope I'm not interrupting." he said with a bit of a cheeky grin, "I bet you're hungry, Lady Aeldre." Bofur handed the bowl to her and she took it without thinking. "My name is Bofur." Seeing that she did not start on the meal immediately, the dwarf frowned. "Are you not a fond of dwarvish cuisine? You must be used to all the vegetables and dumplings back in Rivendell..."

"No, no, I'm sure this is lovely." Under Bofur's waiting gaze, she scooped a spoonful into her mouth. It burst across her tongue with much stronger and darker flavors than any Rivendell food. It warmed her gut well, though, and she could already feel some of her strength returning. She glanced up at Bofur, who seemed to be waiting for her criticism of his cooking. "It's not what I would usually eat, but it's good." He looked relieved to have someone, other than a dwarf, to actually enjoy his cooking.

"You know, it's a shame that you won't be staying with us for long after you've full recovered. It's interesting, having someone else, much less an elf, in the company," Bofur said.

Aeldre shrugged, correcting him, "Half elf," under her breath. After taking another sip of the stew, she stopped and thought for a moment. She couldn't understand why Fili, Kili, or Bofur were willingly helping her, or treating her as if she was their friend. Compared to all the looks and glares from the others… "Both of you and Fili… Why are all of you being so friendly with me?" she asked, "Don't you all hate my presence here?"

Kili chuckled, "Why would we? I don't really see why we should be angry at you for something your fifteenth cousin on the odd side of your family did. If I was judged like that, I don't know that anyone here would speak to me."

Bofur added, "Exactly! Besides, you shouldn't worry about the others. It may take a bit, but I'm sure they'll warm up to you a bit. Besides, if they never do, it's not like you'll have to deal with the lot of them for very long."

"Not that you will necessarily get booted out of the company as soon as you're well enough," Kili assured her. "Thorin may hate you now, but once you prove to him your worth here in the company, I think it'll change his mind, just how he did with Bilbo." Aeldre glanced over at the Hobbit, who was silently sitting beside a tree as he enjoyed the bright sky above him. "We all doubted his presence amongst the company, but by now, he's practically family." Aeldre wondered what would happen if Thorin actually trusted her. Would he treat her the same way he treated the Hobbit and his company? Would she be family to the group like Kili said about Bilbo?

After a while, Fili had returned from his search to find water. He seemed surprised to see Bofur and Kili there, conversing easily over her head. Fili shot her a slightly nervous smile, and she looked away, squashing away any odd feelings before they could start. "It would seem you've already befriended Fili and Bofur." He said quietly to Aeldre as Bofur and Kili argued about the plural form of the word "moose".

Aeldre bit her tongue against replying, so Fili crouched down next to her, pulling out his now full waterskin. "Sorry that took so long," he said a bit sheepishly. "I may be a brilliant fighter, but I never have had a wonderful sense of direction."

Aeldre raised a brow. "You were lost?"

"Just a bit," he admitted with a shrug, before properly sitting next to her.

Kili and Bofur just seemed to notice his presence, and Kili shot his brother a smile, while Bofur turned his attention to Aeldre, asking, "Would you like some more then?"

With a grateful nod toward the dwarf, she handed him the bowl, and he was off, whistling a jaunty tune.

Fili looked over at Kili, "do you mind fetching a thread and needle for Aeldre? And perhaps some numbing herbs? And more bandages?" His brother nodded his head and got up to fetch the necessary medical supplies. Fili smiled at Aeldre, as he drew out a roll of bandages. "Lucky I had these on hand, aye?" Aeldre remained silent, watching as he wet them, before lifting the fabric towards the scrapes across her forehead. She winced slightly at the cold feeling, but remained still as he gently wiped the dried blood off of her cheek. He set aside the now dirtied bandage, before wetting more, and setting to clean her arm. "I hope you're not afraid of needles, My Lady."

"I've had my experience with stitches. Not a very pleasant process to endure, " She replied, watching her lap.

"Aye, but I expect you'll manage."

Aeldre's lips were sealed as she sat while Fili treated her wounds. As she sat there in silence, watching his strong, calloused hands work so gently on her arm, numerous feelings began to fester in her chest. Guilt was a primary one. While some elves in Rivendell would disagree, she had actually received proper etiquette training, and she knew it was rude to have acted the way she had towards Fili. He had sacrificed his time, his safety all to protect her, and in response, she'd only been snippy. She had to summon up the very depths of her courage in order to speak.

"Master Dwarf," she said softly easily drawing his attention.

"Yes, My Lady?"

Her mouth went dry as his brilliant blue eyes locked onto hers, wrought with curiosity. She had to clear her throat slightly, pinching her thigh hard with her free hand, before she dared to try and speak. "I…I know that you didn't have to do all of this, back in the caves, and with Thorin, and now, but…" This was one of the moments when she wished that words came easily to her like they came to Elrond or Arwen. She was quite positive that she was making a fool of herself. "And honestly, I still don't really understand why you've done all of this, or why you seem to care so much about my welfare." Fili looked like he was about to interrupt, so Aeldre bit out, "But thank you." She shot him a slight smile, though she tried to avoid the capture of his gaze. "Thank you, Fili."

Slowly, a massive grin spread across his face, until he was practically beaming at her. "Like I said, Aeldre, I promised to help you. And when a son of Durin makes a promise, he keeps it."

Valar, some part of her hoped that he really was telling the truth.


	8. Chapter 8: He was a Survivor

As the day progressed on to dusk, Aeldre's wounds had been treated by Fili, who was helpful enough to wrap her ribs and stitch up the open cut. She'd eaten the herb he'd given her to numb some of her pain, but found that the medicine was making her feel dizzy as well. Rest was what she needed to sooth her exhaustion, so she settled down as soon as she could, letting her eyes fall closed in a deep slumber.

In the meantime, Fili was sitting at the bonfire with the other dwarves, keeping an eye on Aeldre's sleeping figure. He knew that a soft smile had made its way onto his face, but he was hardly in the mood to stop it. A peculiar warmth was spreading through his chest, and he had the oddest feeling that it wasn't just caused by the embers of the fire before him. Aeldre…

"You care about her,"

Fili was startled out of his musings by the voice of his brother. His smile disappeared as he caught sight of the mischief alight in Kili's eyes. "Have you already fallen for her?"

His gut dropped, and he felt a rush of heat to his face. "F—Fallen? Fallen for…" his protests dropped off as Kili merely lifted a brow. Fili decided, instead, to roll his eyes. "What, Aeldre? Why…" He snorted in false amusement, trying to bid the blush away from his cheeks. "I barely even know her."

Kili didn't drop his infuriatingly knowing look. "But you've already promised you would protect her."

Fili scoffed, "That's not what I said. I promised to _help_ her."

Kili laughed, at Fili's admittedly lame attempts at denial. "That doesn't help your case much, really." He continued, "What makes her so special?"

Fili rolled his eyes again, huffing. "She's not…she's not even that special." Upon meeting his brother's eyes again, he was unsurprised to see that knowing look was back. He punched his brother hard enough in the arm for his knuckles to hurt a bit. "Would you stop with the look!"

Kili rolled his eyes, but luckily, did as Fili had asked. "Are you going to—"

"Aye, aye," Fili huffed. "I'm getting to it. I think that…as a friend," he carefully specified. "I'd just like to get to know her more. She's…very odd. Very difficult to read. And I suppose it's just all rather fascinating. It's not every day you get to meet a woman like her."

When he met his brother's eyes again, any signs of the younger dwarf's amusement was gone. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words, but at last spoke, refusing to look Fili properly in the eyes. "Are you willing to give up your throne on a mere fascination, brother?" Fili opened his mouth to protest, but Kili continued. "You know I will support you until the end of all times, but uncle…He may not be so forgiving. Fascinating as she may be, Aeldre is of elven blood, and Thorin would not want one of elvish descent on the throne—"

Fili cut him off, forcing a grin onto his lips, swallowing a slight lump in his throat. "Then I guess it's bloody lucky I don't plan on trying to get her on the throne, aye?" The pity in Kili's eyes tugged hard on his heart-strings, but he shrugged it off. "Nor would she ever want to be near a throne of Erebor, much less at my side."

Kili's eyes dropped to the ground, but Fili saved him from having to make up a response by clapping him on the shoulder. "Enough of this hypothetical nonsense now. It grows late. Why don't you turn in for the night, I'll put out the fire."

If Kili tried to say something else, Fili was dead-set on ignoring him, picking up a stick to nudge the last embers around the fire ring.

Once he was well and alone, the crackling pop of coals and the snorting and shuffling of sleeping dwarves the only thing outside of silence, he brought a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. Falling for Aeldre…What nonsense. She was alone, and needed a friend. That was all. And he was going to be that friend. That was _all_.

But Mahal above, the odd ache that had taken up his heart spoke differently.

He sat, letting the orange light of the fire stain his vision, for maybe half an hour, trying his hardest not to think. Still, in the last light of the fire, his eyes found their way to Aeldre. Her shoulders rose and fell with each of her slow, sleepy breaths.

The last coal fell dark, and the night settled in around him like an old friend.

Aeldre couldn't tell how long she was asleep for, but the moment she heard pots clanking and grumbling voices, her eyes snapped open. The dwarves were already well awake, breaking camp for the day of travel ahead of them. Sweet Valar, how could they possibly be moving when the sun hadn't yet shown in the sky? Aeldre carefully sat up from against her tree, and the sound of footsteps alerted her to Fili's approach.

"I apologize," he said with a half-smile. "But we must be continuing on before the enemy overtakes us. I did not want to wake you—"

"Apologies are quite unnecessary," she assured him. "I'm well rested enough." Despite her saying this, her body protested as she slowly picked herself from the ground. Her chest was a web of sharply stinging bruises, and the cut on her arm pulled uncomfortably.

"Are you sure?"

She wiped any traces of pain from her features to give him a nod.

"Fili, hurry up! We must keep moving, before we get spotted by the pack!" Thorin shouted back at them. Aeldre resisted a twitch of annoyance. It did not slip her notice that Thorin had addressed his nephew only, rather than her. He was determined to keep her estranged, it seemed.

Fili offered her a faint, apologetic smile, picking up Hadhafang from the ground to hand to her. "That's our cue then."

Thorin's company and Aeldre followed the forest trail until the tall, closely packed trees gave way to wide, breezy plains. They didn't stop to rest or eat, but kept moving forward as the sky prickled awake with swathes of lavender and orange. There were no sounds to be heard, except the crunches of boots crushing grass and leaves. No energy could be spared on conversation.

Gandalf was at the head of this party, and he led them to a stony outcropping. Most of the company remained waiting on the path, while Bilbo was sent scurrying up the hill to scout for the enemy. It irked Aeldre, that they would send the most fragile of their party to do such a dangerous quest, but she held her tongue.

After what felt like an eternity, Aeldre and the dwarves heard scampering footsteps rushing down the path. A moment later, Bilbo practically fell down the rocky path, into the midst of the company. To their relief, he seemed unharmed, though out of breath and clearly panicking.

Thorin didn't waste a minute, asking the hobbit, "How close is the pack?"

"Too close, couple of leagues, no more." Bilbo stopped to catch his breath, "but that's not the worst of it." Aeldre frowned and waited for the Bilbo to continue.

"Have the Orcs picked up our scent?" Dwalin inquired.

"Not yet, but they will do." Bilbo added on, "We have another problem."

"Did they see you?" Gandalf pressed on, "They saw you."

"No, that's not it."

Before Bilbo could speak about what the problem was, Gandalf proceeded to talk with a smile and light-hearted tone. "Good, what did I tell you? Quite as a mouse. Excellent burglar material!" This set the dwarves muttering in approval. Aeldre, meanwhile, wasn't going to breathe a sigh of relief until she heard whatever warning Bilbo was trying so hard to give.

Finally, Bilbo's effort's cut through the chatter. "Will you listen!" Silence fell, listening. "I'm trying to tell you there is something else out there." Bilbo pointed up the trail as he explained there was another entity prowling in the forest after them.

Gandalf frowned, "What form did it take? Like a bear?"

Bilbo looked at the old man in surprise, "Ye…Yes, but bigger. Much bigger."

Fear settled like a fog, whisking the last hints of joyful pratter out of the air. The attention was all on Gandalf now.

"You know about this beast?" Bofur implored. Gandalf didn't reply to the dwarf, but turned away thinking. After half a moment's pause, Bofur suggested, "I say we double back."

Thorin grumbled, "We'll be run down by a pack of Orcs."

Nervous muttering broke out, as the dwarves tried to compose an escape plan. Gandalf cut in after a moment. "There is a house, it's not far from here, where we might take refuge."

"Whose house? Are they friend or foe?" Thorin questioned.

Gandalf sighed, "Neither. He will help us or he will kill us."

Aeldre resisted the urge to groan. She hated bad plans. And while it seemed this was the best plan they had, it wasn't exactly foolproof.

"What choice do we have?" Thorin asked.

All movement stilled as a vicious sound ripped through the air. Aeldre was sure she wasn't the only one with a shiver running down her spine.

"None."

The next few hours were a blur of pain. They sprinted, into the rising sun, led by Gandalf. Every time it seemed they may have made it far enough ahead to feel safe, the howl of wargs, or the terrible roar of the bear-beast would send them running again. The flight would have been a feat if Aeldre had been in full health.

Of course, as it happened, she was far from full health. Every jolting step sent a knife of pain into her chest. Her breaths were short and shallow, her mouth flooded with the sickening, coppery taste of blood. Every time she stumbled, and every time she began coughing, Fili would be at her side in an instant, offering help, asking if she was alright. There was little help he could offer, though, short of literally carrying her forward. But there was no conceivable way that could work.

Instead, she waved Fili off, pressing on through her pain.

They had gone through a winding forest in what seemed like a blink, and Aeldre's heart surged a little in her chest as the trees tapered off, leaving them sprinting onto a field. Her height allowed her to see over the heads of the dwarves, to their goal. A high-walled house nestled into the grass. Sanctuary.

Her moment of relief was shattered when another growling roar sounded from behind them, much closer than ever this time.

If it was at all possible, the dwarves around her began running twice as fast. Aeldre nearly stumbled, but kept herself upright. The world, however, was not so cooperative It pitched and whirled and blurred around her, trying to tangle her feet up. Sound had faded out mostly, to be replaced with the shallow, ragged burning of her breaths and the aching pound of her heartbeat in her head. She barely registered being forced to a stop as she crashed into the heap of dwarves piled against the bolted door.

In a moment, the world jerked into movement again, and she was stumbling, falling. Dust filled her mouth as she slid to the floor, a wooden surface cool and solid behind her back

A loud thump sounded, and Aeldre's eyes focused well enough to see that they had forced the door closed. They were safe.

"That is our host," Gandalf's voice announced, clear over the buzz of her head. Aeldre blinked in disbelief. Had she really heard that correctly? "His name is Beorn, he's a skin-changer. Sometimes he's a huge black bear, sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not over fond of dwarves."

The growling, huffing sound of the beast seemed to fade. "He's leaving," Sighed the dewy-eyed, young dwarf.

One of the oldest dwarves pulled him away from the door, scowling. "Come away from there! It's not natural, none of it. It's obvious, he's under some dark spell."

"Don't be a fool," Gandalf snapped "He's under no enchantment but his own." Gandalf took off his hat, "Alright now, get some sleep all of you. You'll be safe here tonight." Aeldre watched the old man and heard him softly said, "I hope."

Aeldre's head fell back against whatever she was sat against as she finally began to catch her breath back. So, perhaps this wasn't entirely a terrible plan. At least they were safe for now.

Her eyes wandered around the house. It reminded her of a small cabin made out of possible oak trees and stones for the walls. She noticed there were livestock living in the house, sheep and goats happily chewing the hay that lay strewn across the floor. A large room sat separate from the one she was in, practically filled with a solid-looking wooden table, a massive fireplace next to it. It was indeed a very comfortable house for the skin changer.

As her eyes swept the room, they found Fili, walking towards her, a mixture of guilt and concern written across his features. "I… I'm sorry for making you run a long distance. We needed to find shelter before our enemies get to us."

Aeldre shook her head. "Stop apologizing for things like that. It's not under any of your control."

"But I saw the way you were struggling to keep going." He protested, crouching on the ground before her to meet her eyes. "You were practically on death's door, Aeldre. If Thorin could have waited—"

"There wasn't time to wait," she protested.

"Then…Then we should have made time," she shot back, an odd, desperate light coming to his eyes. "Or you should have let me help you, at least!"

That made Aeldre bristle slightly. "I am not some damsel in need of your aid, Fili! You have offered me your help, and I am grateful, but you must understand that there will not always be a way for you to help me. I can take care of my self."

Fili's frustration seemed to calm at her admonishment. "Aeldre, I did not mean to treat you as incapable, or…incompetent." His eyes, which had dropped to the ground came back up to meet hers. "I know very well that you can look after yourself. I just…I don't like to see you suffer."

There was something in his eyes. An emotion. Or a feeling. It was very peculiar. And it made Aeldre's gut twist in a way that wasn't bad, necessarily, just…different. She broke the tension of the moment, clearing her throat, breaking the eye contact. "And you, Master Dwarf? How have you fared?"

He sighed slightly, feeling the crackling of the air dissolve. "I'm alright. How about we get you to a chair before Bombur steps on you?" He stood, offering a hand down to her.

On any other day, she would have ignore his hand, and gotten up herself. However, she wasn't entirely sure if she was capable of exerting that much energy. She took his hand, ignoring its warmth as he hauled her to her feet, slipping a gentle arm around her waist. Aeldre had to bit her tongue to keep from hissing from the pain as they made their way slowly to one of the smaller chairs in the room.

"Careful, now," He breathed, settling her down into the chair, drawing his arm away. "Let me check your wounds." Aeldre watched him as he lifted up her shirt to check her bandaged chest, "seemed to be good condition so far." Next, he examined her cut on the arm. "You must have some luck," he commented, smiling up at her for a moment. "The stitches are all still intact. "

She sighed, "That's good."

He placed a hand softly on her shoulder, "Let me go find you something to drink." She nodded, and he was gone, allowing Aeldre to relax into the seat a bit more.

Approaching Aeldre was Gandalf, his smile warm. "How are your injuries, Aeldre?"

Aeldre sighed, "About as well as you might expect." She adjusted herself on the chair, "I wouldn't typically consider a day-long sprint across the countryside a restorative activity."

The wizard chuckled, "Yes, I apologize for that. May I?" he asked, indicating the empty chair beside her. Aeldre nodded and the wizard hummed slightly as he settled himself down.

"Is there a reason for you to come to me, Gandalf?"

"Well I hoping you and I can get to know each other for a bit. I have some questions for you, and as curious of a girl as you are, you must have a few things to ask of me."

Aeldre nodded, but waited for Gandalf to continue. "You have lived in Rivendell, if I am not mistaken?"

Aeldre nodded again. "For a time. I was a child in a cottage in the forest with my mother and father, before."

"And?" Gandalf prompted as she fell silent. "What brought you to Elrond's care?"

Aeldre fixed her gaze upon her hands, memorizing the callouses on her fingers as she bid her mouth to speak. "Orcs. Many of them. They…they came in the hours of the night, when no one was prepared. My mother hid me, and my father escaped, but my mother…" she cleared her throat, trying to keep the memories from overcoming her mind. "My mother was not so fortunate." Aeldre's eyes flickered up to Gandalf's, but she tore them away almost immediately. She did not need the wizard's kindness. "I never saw my father again."

"And you lived with Elrond ever since." Aeldre nodded satisfied to keep the other details of that story to herself.

"He's not dead," Aeldre found herself saying suddenly, half to assure herself rather than Gandalf. "My father. He's not. I know it. He was a fighter, a…a survivor." She clenched her fists, feeling, instead of seeing the callouses that coated her skin. "I have trained since I came to Rivendell, so that when my time came, I could go out and find my father. When Thorin and his company came to Rivendell, I knew that the time had come. Elrond…Lord Elrond did not quite share that view."

"You left without his permission," Gandalf mused.

Aeldre nodded, a bit sheepishly. Part of her wondered if she was about to be scolded by this wizard for her misdeeds…Luckily, she realized her fears were misplaced as Gandalf let out a hearty chuckle. "My dear girl, it is not every day that I meet someone tenacious enough to directly disobey Lord Elrond. You are…You are a marvel."

Aeldre tried not to flush at that, rolling her eyes.

Gandalf seemed to pick up on her discomfort easily, and changed the subject. "Now, would you care to learn the details of this journey?" Aeldre nodded. "I found Thorin in Bree, the borderline of the Shire, and I specifically instructed him to take back Erebor from the dragon, Smaug by summoning seven of his family. Unfortunately, Thorin, the next king under the mountain, do not possess the power of the Arkenstone, to summon the dwarves of Erebor. Once he obtains that jewel, he will hold the power as the king. However, it's lost at the claws of Smaug, so we needed someone to be our burglar to steal the jewel from the dragon."

Aeldre looked at Bilbo, "And you chose the hobbit."

"Yes, we needed a burglar that the dragon never knew about. It would a terrible risk to let a dwarf or an elf to take the role." Gandalf chuckled, "Hobbits may seem a(n)[ rather ]unlikely kind to seek in times of dire need, but I have always found them a rather reliable sort." Aeldre finally understood why the hobbit was brought into a dangerous task.

"Now, as for Azog the Defiler." Aeldre brought her attention back to the wizard, "you probably already knew Thorin and the pale orc had history with each other. It happened after Smaug took over Erebor, Thorin's grandfather, the last king of Erebor, wanted to take back the kingdom of Moria underneath the Misty Mountain from Azog and his orcs Thus, there was a war between orcs and dwarves. Many lives were lost that day, and Thorin watched Azog slaughter his father. Thorin was far from helpless though…Azog left that battle short an arm. From then," Gandalf explained. "They have sworn to kill eachother."

"I see," Aeldre thought back about the incident with Azog. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen the pale orc before. Where could she possibly have seen him from?

Gandalf almost seemed to sense her troubled thoughts, and set a hand on her shoulder, shuffling up to his feet. "I will leave you now, my dear girl. I hope that you will rest." Gandalf was gone before she could reply.

As night soon fell to Middle Earth, the dwarves were fast asleep in the soft hay. However, Aeldre found herself sleepless, among the heavy shadows of the other's sleeping forms. She laid her sword on her lap and pulled out the sheath so the blade glistened from the moonlight. She used the ends of her cloak to polish the blade as sweet memories of Arwen, Elrond, the twins, of her home washed over her.

Eventually, Aeldre heard shuffling of hay nearby. She lifted up her gaze to where she had heard the sound, and saw the hobbit still awake. Aeldre was tempted to talk to Bilbo, until she spotted him moving his head to peer over his shoulder as if he was trying to make sure the dwarves were asleep. She curiously stared at his back as he pulled out something from his pocket. The half-breed couldn't get a glimpse at what he had in his hand.

"Can't sleep, Master hobbit?" inquired Aeldre her voice loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough that it would not wake the others.

Bilbo was startled and turned his head over his shoulder, "O-oh! U-um not quite, unfortunately." He began to stutter under his breath, and stuffed the object he was looking at back into his pocket. "You seem to be of a similar state."

Aeldre smiled softly, lifting her sword, letting the faint light brush against the swirling design of the blade. "The night is no stranger to me." Bilbo hummed softly, and she found herself wanting to continue this quiet conversation. "Do you miss your home, Master hobbit?"

"Yes, very much so." He sighed. She could hear the wistful smile in his voice. "What about you, Aeldre?"

She gazed at Hadhafang, the memories reflecting up off of its silvery surface, warm and wanting. "Very much."

There was a bit of a pause before Bilbo spoke again. "You… need not to call me Master hobbit." He chuckled, "Bilbo will do just fine."

"Very well, Bilbo." Aeldre settled the sword on her lap, "What you did back there with Azog. You have to be one the most courageous Halfling I've ever met, especially when you protected me when I could not do the same."

Even in the darkness, she could tell Bilbo had flushed at the praise. "I-I couldn't possibly let you die, not after you were willing to fight for someone you've just met." Bilbo proceeded, "Besides, you're trying to look for your father, correct? It would be a shame if you died so soon without making any progress."

Aeldre chuckled, "It would be, wouldn't it?" She gazed up at the gap between the rafters in the roof. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she almost thought she could see a few of the stars.

There was silence between the two for a while, until Bilbo began, "Your father is alive… What about your mother?" Aeldre's heart sank in her chest, her gaze falling from the likely-imagined stars. Bilbo continued, "[y](Y)ou mentioned before that you didn't want to make another loss. Could it be that she…"

Aeldre saved him from stuttering on. "Yes… she no longer walks amongst the living." She replied softly.

Bilbo paled. "I-I'm sorry if I brought grief upon you. I was just… curious."

Oddly enough, a gentle smile twitched at her lips. "There's no need for an apology, Bilbo." She looked at him, "I don't mind the curiosity, but I believe it's best not to discuss it any further."

"Yes, you're right." He lowered his gaze at hay beneath him.

As she stared at the hobbit, Aeldre settled her sword beside her legs and wrapped her cloak up tighter to her neck. "Get some sleep, Bilbo. It would be a shame if you don't have the energy to keep moving forward on this journey."

Bilbo lifted his head up, and smiled. "I should say the same thing to you."

She chuckled, "Goodnight, Bilbo." Aeldre leaned her head against the wooden pillar, as she slowly drifted to a deep slumber.


End file.
